Who Framed Kermit the Frog
by Bob Wright
Summary: As you can guess, a Muppet version of Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Story is in this section as it fits the best. NOW COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1

WHO FRAMED KERMIT THE FROG

BY

BOB WRIGHT

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Muppets are a registered trademark of Muppets Holding Company LLC and The Walt Disney Company. Sesame Street and all related characters and indicia are registered trademark of Children's Television Workshop. As for the human characters, your guess would be as good as mine. And now, sit back and enjoy the story.

The activity inside the factory was feverish. Uncouth-looking men in military fatigues walked all around carrying weapons and barrels labeled HAZAZRDOUS MATERIAL. On the top catwalk, one of them walked up to a bearded man watching it all. "Herr General, we have obtained the missile," he said in a too-thick German accent.

"Very good," the general snickered, "And now we will launch it at the U.N. and destroy the entire world! None will oppose me now!"

He burst into maniacal laughter, as did his associates. Suddenly the warehouse's bay doors swung open. "Oh no!" the general exclaimed, "It's…It's…Frogbo!"

"FROGBO!" his men all cried out at once, "OH NO! OH NO!"

"Yo," said the frog in the fatigues of his own, complimented with a red headband and two giant machine guns, "And you fascist swines are dead meat."

He started firing away, making strange grunts as he went. The soldiers started falling down dead all over the place. Once he'd run out of live targets to shoot, "Frogbo" aimed at machines in the corners—only to stop with surprise as the machines on the opposite wall blew up instead.

"CUT!" yelled a frustrated voice. Kermit the frog tossed down his guns in disgust. "All right, who goofed up this time!" he yelled.

"It's the pyrotechnics crew!" director John Who, working on his very first feature, stormed onto the set, "Apparently they have no idea what direction is which! I said the RIGHT BANK of machines explode!" he bellowed at the special effects people behind the massive warehouse set. "All right, let's reset and try it again!"

"Forget it!" Kermit shouted, storming off the set, "We've done this enough; they're never going to get it right!"

"Oh come on Kermit, seventy-seven takes is not too much!" Who protested, threading his way through crew members.

"Maybe not for you, but it is for me!" Kermit told him, "And by the way, I QUIT! This project is just so stupid!"

"Stupid?" Who was aghast, "Kermit, we created this project just for you!"

"Frogbo, Eighth Blood, Part Five, an original project?" Kermit pointed out, "For one thing, it's ethnically insensitive, for another it has no plot, and for yet another, it's too violent! Sorry John, but I have to leave. If Jim were still here, he'd never approve a project like this!"

"Ah, but Jim isn't here, and you're under contract," Who told the frog, "You're required to make another picture with Golderman Pictures."

"Then tell Golderman to get together a better production if he wants to keep me!" Kermit yelled, exasperated, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my trailer, doing some embroidery!"

"Kermit, Kermit listen to me!" the director followed his star off the set. Neither of them had noticed the man in the rumpled trench coat that had been watching the whole thing.

Sam Klubb had once been a world-famous detective. Now he was reduced to mostly handling divorce cases and the like. And he hated working on anything Muppet related. But he needed the money right now. Taking one final assessment of the set, he walked back toward the executives' offices.

"I'm here to see Mr. Golderman," he told the secretary at the desk once he'd reached them.

"Have a seat sir, I'll tell him you're here," she said in a dry voice. Sam took a seat in a plush armchair near the large wooden doors with the words FREDERICK Z. GOLDERMAN, PRESIDENT OF GOLDERMAN PICTURES, A DIVISION OF BITTERMAN INTERNAITONAL inscribed on them. No sooner had he taken a seat, however, then the secretary told him, "He'll see you now, Mr. Klubb."

"Right," Sam entered the office. It was fabulously decorated, with all sorts of awards on the walls. "Mr. Klubb, it's a pleasure to meet you," said Fred Golderman, a fat man with slicked haired and a pinstriped suit.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam shrugged it off, "Tell me what you called me here for, Mr. Golderman."

"Mr. Klubb, you no doubt saw the friction on the set of the latest Frogbo picture this afternoon," Golderman took a seat behind his desk, "Kermit has threatened to quit at least three times during production. I have well over a hundred million dollars sunk into this film, and I'd like my investment to pay off."

"Why don't you just fire the frog and get another one who won't complain about anything?" Sam suggested.

"I can't, Kermit's under exclusive contract with Golderman Pictures," Golderman shook his head, "There are times I regret putting him and his associates under contract after I acquired their services following the death of Mr. Henson. Kermit likes to do things the old way, and we all know the old way doesn't sell anymore, period."

"Tell me about it," Sam pulled out a can of soda and took a long swig, "But you still haven't explained why I'm here, Golderman."

"Kermit feels his friends are all with him," Golderman propped his feet up on the counter, "He thinks they'll all be loyal to him. But if he sees they'd sell out to the brass here and upstairs at Bitterman International, which I assure you they would right now at a moment's notice, he'd be willing to stop causing problems."

"What I just saw wasn't his problem," Sam told him, "You've hired the wrong special effects crew."

"True, but many of the other times it's been Kermit's problems we can't get anything done," Golderman said, "Now here's what I'd like you to do: I know through my sources that Miss Piggy will be meeting an important person at the Muppet Theater this evening…"

"I don't do the Muppet Theater," Sam cut him off, "And I don't do Muppetville either."

"You don't have to go to Muppetville," Golderman reassured him, "Anyway, I want you to record Piggy making the deal I know she's going to make."

"What makes you so sure, Golderman?"

"Because she's making it with my boss Rachel Bitterman, and she tells me everything," Golderman said, "Just get it on tape, and we'll have Kermit right where we want him. What do you say?"

"Sounds good enough," Sam approached the desk, "But you're going to have to open the purse strings, Golderman. I want at least ten grand."

"TEN GRAND?" Golderman roared. He immediately softened and said, "Sure, sure, ten grand it is. But I can only spare half right now."

"I'll take it," Sam extended his hand. Golderman reluctantly handed it to him. "I'll expect the rest later," the detective advised him as he turned to leave.

"Oh you'll get it," Golderman flashed a strange smile as Sam walked out of the office, "You'll get what you've earned, Mr. Klubb."


	2. Chapter 2

"That'll be eight twenty-six, bud," the cabdriver told Sam as he pulled up to the curb in the detective's home neighborhood.

"Keep the change," Sam climbed out of the cab—and was nearly run over by a speeding vehicle. "Hey, watch it you lousy road hog!" he yelled at the driver.

"Why don't you watch it!" the driver, an actual hog, yelled back. Sam shook his head. "Stupid Muppets," he grumbled.

He walked toward the large multi-leveled restaurant with a blinking neon sign over the door flashing CLUB 40S nearby. As part of one of the mayor's urban revitalization efforts a few years ago, entire sections of the city had been rebuilt with a theme—in the instance of Sam's neighborhood, that of an inner city from the 1940s. It had once been teeming with Muppets, but most of them had been relegated to Muppetville after the death of Jim Henson after numerous complaints by city residents about their general mayhem. Sam had agreed with this policy for a long time.

The restaurant was full of the usual early evening crowds Sam typically saw there as he walked in. A thick cloud of cigarette smoke filled the air. The detective sat down at the counter. He wasn't hungry at the moment; he was just waiting for someone he knew.

"Sam Klubb. It's been a long time since I've seen you," came a very familiar voice from the piano nearby. Sam spun around. "Rowlf?" he asked, amazed to see the dog, "When did you start here?"

"About an hour ago," Rowlf told him, "Connie hired me. Guess she felt sorry that I've been out of work for so long."

He pounded out a raw classical tune on the piano. "Yeah, you can tell you've been," Sam grimaced, covering his ears, "In ten years you couldn't find a decent job?"

"I guess I could ask you the same question, Sam," added another voice. An attractive waitress stepped across the counter toward him. "Have you got that money you owe me?" she demanded.

"Uh, sort of," Sam told her, "You got that video recorder?"

"Why?"

"Want to exchange it for the dough?"

"How much?" Connie pressed.

"How does half sound?" Sam held out the money Golderman had given him earlier. Connie examined them with an edge of suspicion. "This is half, where's the rest?" she inquired.

"I'll get the rest later," Sam said as patiently as he could, "Once I do the job I've been required to do tonight at the…" he paused uncomfortably before continuing, "…the Muppet Theater, I'll get you the rest."

"Well, someone's going to the Muppet theater?" an unsavory looking man leaned over Sam's shoulder, "Well, what's the scoop, Klubb? Uncle Deadly live up to his name? Or did the Swedish Chef actually kill himself?"

"Here's the recorder," Connie handed it to Sam, "I want it back in one piece."

"At the Muppet Theater, forget it," the intruder chuckled.

"Ocknay itway offway, Illbay," Connie warned him, noticing the dark look spreading over Sam's face.

"Oh, actually let me guess, the Gorgs hired you," Bill persisted pestering Sam, "They finally realized they've lost all their radishes, and they…"

He got no further, for Sam abruptly grabbed him by the back of his collar and tossed him the floor. Everyone in the restaurant stopped—including Rowlf in the middle of his latest song—and stared at the fight in the making. Sam planted a foot on Bill's chest. "Read my lips, you jerk face!" the detective roared, "I…DO…NOT…WORK…FOR…MUPPETS!"

He picked up the cup of coffee next to him on the counter and poured it into Bill's groin. Bill howled in pain as Sam stepped over him and stormed toward the exit. "He's got a serious anger management problem," he griped.

"I guess you would too if a Muppet killed your family," Rowlf said with a rare air of grimness.

"Who what?"

"'Fraid so," Connie stared with sadness after the detective as he left, "Dropped a boulder on them all."

"Oh well, life goes on," Rowlf resumed playing the piano.

* * *

The show had already begun at the Muppet Theater when Sam arrived there about an hour later. He knocked on the closed door to the theater itself. "Got a ticket?" came a gruff voice from within.

"Yeah, let me in," Sam said. The door slowly opened, and out lumbered Sweetums wearing an usher suit. "Take whatever's available," the monster said, taking Sam's ticket, "Want me to check your coat?"

"Yeah, sure," Sam started to take it off. He needn't have bothered, for Sweetums at that moment pulled out a marker and drew a checkmark on Sam's coat. "Checked," he said.

Sam glared at him and walked into the theater. A raucous crowd was already whipped into a frenzy as the Electric Mayhem performed on stage. The detective took a seat on the end of one of the middle rows. "She caught the Katy, and left me a mule to ride," Dr. Teeth was crooning on stage, "My baby caught the Katy, left me a mule to ride, the train pulled out, I walked on behind, crazy about that hard-headed woman of mine."

"Faster!" Animal roared, banging harder on his drums.

"Shecaughtthekatyandleftmeamuletoride," Dr. Teeth started singing the next verse incredibly fast, accompanied by frantic playing of instruments by the rest of the Electric Mayhem, "Shecaughthekatyandleftmeamuletoride. MybabycaughtthekatyleftmeamuletoridethetrainpulledoutIwalkedonbehind. Crazyaboutthathardheadedwomanofmine."

"FASTER!" Animal ordered again. This time the lyrics were sung too fast for anyone to really make them out. By the time he finished, he and the rest of the band collapsed from exhaustion; Floyd Pepper in particular looked incredibly winded. "FASTER!" Animal was still enjoying it, and thus was dismayed when large hooks came in from the wings and pulled them all off stage to thunderous applause. Sam could have cared less. "Pathetic," he grumbled, taking another swig of soda.

"I don't think so, Sam," came a familiar voice from the row behind him. "Ernie?" Sam turned in surprise.

"That's me," Ernie grinned from ear to ear, "Old buddy Bert and me got the night off. With luck we'll be called on down for the game show sketch they're planning later; our lucky numbers are 333 and 334."

"Ernie, the numbers are secret!" Bert reprimanded him from the seat next to him, "That means you don't tell anyone!" Looking at Sam, he said, "I lost the coin flip. It was either this or the pigeon convention across town. What brings you here?"

"I'm waiting for either Miss Piggy or Rachel Bitterman," Sam said, "You seen either of them?"

"Bitterman's in the fourth row," Bert pointed, "I don't know what she's doing here after everything that's happened before. Miss Piggy should be on stage after this next act goes through."

"Shhhhh, Bert, the next act's starting," Ernie pointed at the stage. Gonzo was striding out on stage wearing a devil suit. "Ladies and gentlemen," the purple creature announced to his audience, "Tonight for your viewing pleasure, I will attempt a daring feat that has been attempted a million times before, usually unsuccessfully. I will swallow a multitude of explosive substances, and then blow myself up. "First, some gasoline."

He hefted a can and drank every drop of gas. "Then some nitro glycerin," he continued, drinking it, "And finally this stick of dynamite. Now brace yourself, because this is the big one."

He light a match and through it down his throat. Immediately he exploded violently into the rafters. Loud applause swept the theater. "Boring," Sam groaned.

"I think he got a bang out of that," came a familiar voice from the box just above him.

"You know it, Statler," Waldorf agreed, "It's too bad he's got an explosive personality, or the act might have worked."

The two senior citizens laughed out loud. On stage, Gonzo landed back on the floor with a thud, heavily charred. Two chickens rushed on stage and dragged him off. Sam took the opportunity to scoop out Bitterman. She was indeed in the seat Bert had pointed out, and was the only person apart from the detective himself not applauding. Indeed, she had quite the devious look on her face, Sam thought

"Byiereen Meestera Klubb, bork himmer mick popcornen?" came a voice with a notable Swedish accent to Sam's right. The Swedish Chef was holding out a bag of popcorn toward him. "No!" Sam yelled at him, jerking his thumb toward the back of the theater. The Chef shrugged and trotted off. Sam watched as he offered the bag to Telly Monster in the tenth row. Telly accepted it—only to spill it all over the place when he sat down in his seat. "They still haven't fixed that chair," Sam shook his head.

"Nope," Ernie was chuckling at Telly's predicament, "All these years and he still hasn't learned."

"And now ladies and gentlemen, for your listening and viewing pleasure, here's out very own Miss Piggy to perform, 'I'm Every Woman,'" came Scooter's voice over the loudspeaker. When the curtain rose up on a glitzy set, however, it was Fozzie Bear who came out on stage. "Thank you, thank you!" the bear address a booing audience, "I just flew in from Portland, and boy, my arms are tired."

"Hey, fuzzy!" came a familiar porcine voice from, the wings, "Does your name sound like Miss Piggy?"

"Hmm, Fozzzz-eeeeeeee-Beeeaaaaaarrrr," Fozzie pronounced his own name slowly, "No, it doesn't."

"THEN GET OFF THE STAGE!" the real Miss Piggy roared, "Unless you want a fist in your face!"

"Right away," Fozzie meekly scurried off. Miss Piggy flew onto stage suspended from the roof on a wire and wearing an angel suit. "OOh, I'm every woman, it's all in me," she crooned, "Anything you want done baby, I do it naturallEEEEEEE!"

The wire unexpectedly broke, sending her crashing to the stage. She stormed off as the audience broke into laughter. It was at this moment that Sam noticed Bitterman rising from her seat and walking toward a door labeled BACKSTAGE. He rose up and walked after her at a safe distance.

Pushing the door open, he had to force his way through a crowd of Muppets in costume for future acts. "Move it, you lazy cows!" he yelled at them.

"Hey, no shots below the belt, buddy!" shouted a cow in the group. Sam paid no attention. He caught sight of Bitterman knocking on a door with Miss Piggy's name on it in very large letters. "Miss Piggy, I need to talk to you about what we talked about last night," he could make out her lips saying. He waited until she walked into the dressing room before scurrying over to the door. "What are YOU doing here?" he could hear Piggy say inside.

"I thought after what just happened you might be a bit more receptive to what I have to say," Bitterman replied. Sam clicked on the recorder and held it up to the keyhole as the businesswoman continued, "Now Pig, I know you've spent so long working for the frog, but what has he gotten out of it for you? You're certainly no further along toward stardom than you were when you first met him."

There was a low sigh from within the dressing room. "I know," Miss Piggy said glumly, "And I just had a feeling working for Jim would bring it for me."

"Yes, Mr. Henson made a lot of promises to you, didn't he?" Bitterman inquired, "Certainly you'd like a better opportunity for success than what the frog offers for you here, wouldn't you?"

Sam didn't here the answer to this, for it was at this moment that a large furry hand grabbed his shoulder. What are you doing, buster!" Sweetums demanded.

"Mind your own business, you big hairball!" Sam retorted. He soon regretted this, for Sweetums picked him up and hurled him through the wall into the back alley. "And stay out!" the monster growled.

Sam picked himself up and dusted himself off. He could still hear Bitterman talking through an open window nearby. He crept over to it and put the recorder to his eye. Inside, Bitterman was pulling a paper out of her pocket. "I have a manifesto here," she was telling a dismal-looking Piggy, "This will give you star status for Golderman Pictures. I'll instruct Fred Golderman to make you your own picture series, complete with anything you want. All you have to do is renounce Kermit and sign this. You'll be freeing everyone else from his outdated contract here at this theater too. What do you say?"

"Hmm," Miss Piggy's brow furled, "I don't know if Jim would really approve us selling the theater and all. One of the last things he said before he died was that we should trust Kermie with…"

"Forget about Henson!" Bitterman shouted, "He's gone, he's dead, he's out of the picture! What do you say, Pig? This is your last chance for stardom."

For the longest time, Miss Piggy stared at the document. Then she took the pen and signed it. Sam smiled as he recorded the event. He was going to get the rest of the ten grand sooner than he'd thought. This had been so easy.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm sure the others will thank you later for making this choice, Piggy," Bitterman continued the conversation with the pig on the TV screen inside Golderman's office. On the desk, Kermit watched the scene Sam had shot roughly an hour ago with complete shock and horror.

"Yeah, I know deep down they will," Miss Piggy agreed with a nod, "They've gotten tired of things around here lately too, if I may say so. Actually, the other day I heard Rizzo tell Beauregard that he felt Kermit's too over the hill, that…"

Golderman turned off the VCR. "Get the picture, Kermit?" the studio magnate told the frog, "You have no support anymore."

"How could this happen?" Kermit was close to breaking up, "And from Piggy! I thought…I thought she actually did have feelings for me! How could she do this? I can't believe it!"

"Believe it Kermit, that's the way it happened," Sam took a swig of soda, "Mr. Golderman, I do believe you owe me some more cash."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, a deal's a deal," Golderman reached into his desk and gave Sam the remaining five thousand dollars, "Don't drown yourself in caffeine with it."

"How could they sell out the theater!" Kermit continued lamenting, "And to Rachel Bitterman of all people! That theater was the only thing we had left from Jim! It was the only connection to what we used to be!"

"Yeah, used to be being the key word," Golderman walked over to his star, "Look, Kermit, you had a great act while it lasted, but times have changed. Nobody likes your old shtick anymore. People want more action, more sex, that sort of thing. And you either change with the times and accept that others have ot make a living too, or you can die on the vine. Your so-called friends know that, that's why they all signed on to start their own films, Miss Piggy included. Now are you willing ot return to the Frogbo set without causing anymore problems?"

"I guess so," Kermit nodded weakly, "I thought they cared for me, and they all would turn on the drop of a hat! Even Piggy! I can't believe they all signed that manifesto!"

"Welcome to the real world, Kermit. Loyalty means nothing anymore these days," Sam told the frog, "You have to make it on your own and expect people to stab you in the back."

"And you used to support us too," Kermit muttered under his breath at the detective, "You told Jim you'd do anything for us."

"Hey, Kermit, look at the bright side, with your long experience in show biz, you'll be bound to get a talk show of your own," Sam suggested.

Without warning, Kermit snapped. "TALK SHOW!" the frog yelled, jumping on top of Sam and shaking him, "I DON'T WANT A TALK SHOW! I WANT TO KEEP THE MUPPET PERFORMERS TOGETHER, AND WE'RE GOING TO STAY TOGETHER NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES, DO YOU HEAR ME, NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES!"

And with that, he barreled through the wall and out up the street. "I'd say it he took it well," Golderman commented, staring at the hole in the wall, "Well, I guess it's goodbye then, Detective Klubb."

"Sure," Sam shook his hand, "Good luck with that action film, Golderman."

* * *

It was a half hour later when Sam arrived back at his apartment. As with the overall theme of his neighborhood, it was decked out much like an apartment in the 1940s would have been. Which was fine enough with Sam; as a child he'd always enjoyed watching noir pictures. They'd in part fueled his interest in becoming a detective. Not to mention the fact that his family had been detectives for several generations.

Now he was the last of the line. As he slouched behind his office chair, a bleak reminder of this fact greeted him on the desk in front of him; a picture of himself over ten years younger on a street corner smiling happily. As were the three people around him: a tall, thin bespectacled young man, a long-haired young woman, and a large, fat mustached older man. His family. The only people who'd made his life happy. And now they were gone. All because some dirty Muppet had decided not to give up without a fight.

"Hope you had a good night," he told the photo glumly, toasting his latest soda can to it, "'Cause I just sold out one of our last big supporters. Nice way to kill the old business, huh?"

He glanced around at the dusty room somberly. The three empty desks, with the fading nameplates still trumpeting their former occupants (ROY C. KLUBB, JAMES D. KLUBB, and KATHERINE A. KLUBB respectively), spoke back to him of the times gone by. Times when they had all enjoyed working in Muppetville. Now those days were gone, likely for good. Memoirs of the former Muppet lover Sam had once been lay across his desk in front of him: newspapers proclaimed headlines such as AMAZING MUMFORD CLEARED IN CASE OF VANISHING VALUABLES and KLUBB FAMILY DETECTIVE AGENCY EARNS RED FRAGGLE FREDDOM FROM COUTNERFEITING CHARGES. He sighed deeply. One day he'd have to throw them out. But right now, he needed more to drink.

* * *

Across town, a broken Kermit slid down a back alley. He didn't even notice when he accidentally knocked over a trash can and sent the cat inside running. He slumped against a dumpster and pulled out an old photo. A photo of a bearded man sitting against a window, holding Kermit up in his hand.

"I'm sorry Jim," the frog told the picture tearfully, "I failed you. I've tried to follow your vision of making the world just a little better. It's just so much harder these days. If only there was some way I could keep your dream alive in everyone. If only there was some way."

For no particular reason, rain began falling at that exact moment. Kermit didn't notice at all. He slumped his head forward, trying ot think of some way to keep the troupe he'd considered his friends for so long from selling out to Bitterman…

* * *

A loud knocking on Sam's door roused him from his sleep. "Hey Klubb, open up!" shouted a rough Irish voice, "I've got to talk to you!"

Sam rose up from his desk. "Okay, okay, give me a minunte!" he grumbled, not yet fully awake. He lurched toward the door and threw it open. "Good morning Lieuitenant O'Shaughnessy, what brings you here today?" he asked the policeman before him.

"Tsk tsk, Sam, what a career you've made for yourself," O'Shaughnessy shook his head, "You used to be the best, now look at you."

"Would you get to the point, Lieutenant?" Sam grumbled.

"Certainly. Word has it you were snooping the Muppet theater recording a business deal last night," O'Shaughnessy told him.

"Yeah, that's not a crime," Sam retorted.

"No, but it led to one," O'Shaughnessy said, "Your friend Kermit the frog offed Rachel Bitterman afterwards."

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped. Kermit, a murderer? It didn't seem possible…or was it?


	4. Chapter 4

It was a half hour later when O'Shaughnessy parked his car in front of the Bitterman International Building. As with the theme of the downtown business district, it and all the buildings around it had almost twelve extra floors on top of it that served no useful purpose except to make the buildings look exceptionally tall. "Come on Sam, we might as get this over with," the lieutenant said, helping him up to the curb.

Sam nodded blankly. From behind the building he could here the sounds of raucous singing and other strange noises coming from Muppetville, which had been laid out at the very heart of the city. He hoped they wouldn't have to go into there.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the building's lobby was the GIGANTIC anvil in the middle of the room. Coroner's office personnel were loaded up a sheeted body onto a stretcher nearby. Also conspicuous were several muddy flipper prints leading over to the corner. "OK Norman, tell us what you've got?" O'Shaughnessy asked the coroner.

"Well, it looks like the frog overrode the building's security code," the coroner said, munching away on a ham sandwich, "He dragged the anvil in and waited for Bitterman to come back. When she did, he let her have it."

"Any fingerprints?" Sam inquired. It just didn't seem like Kermit to do something like this.

"No, but we've got glove paint that I'm told matches a pair Kermit bought last week," the coroner swallowed the rest of the sandwich, "And we've got the prints here. As far as I can see, we've got an airtight case here. All we need to do is bring him in."

"Oh Mr. Samuel Klubb," came a strict voice behind him. Sam turned and bent down to find himself looking at Miss Piggy. "I've got an early Christmas present for you, tough guy," she said, and with a loud, "HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIYAAAAAAAAA!" gave him a brutal karate chop to the chest. Sam toppled backwards to the floor. "Why don't you lay there till Tuesday?" Piggy snorted as she stormed out, "That's when they take out the trash in this neighborhood!"

"Well, I guess the little porker told you a thing or two," one of the nearby cops sniggered at Sam.

"I heard that, bud!" Piggy yelled back at him, "Don't think I don't know where you live!"

"All right, let's get this body out of here," the coroner told his crew, who started wheeling the gurney with Bitterman's body toward the door. As they made a wide right turn to avoid another clump of police, Bitterman's arm slumped out and dropped a piece of paper to the floor. Seeing that no one else had noticed, Sam strolled over and bent down to get it…

Only to have his hand crushed by a heavy black boot. He slowly glanced up the leg of the person now standing over him to find himself staring into a pale, sallow face and a wild shock of hair. "Just what do we think we're doing here, removing evidence from this crime scene?" he asked in a cold voice.

"No, Lord Jareth, Detective Klubb was just about to give you that paper…weren't you Sam?" O'Shaughnessy raised his eyebrows at his associate. "Uh, no, not really," Sam said defiantly, "I found…"

Jareth made a pulling gesture with his hand. Instantly the paper was jerked out of Sam's hand into the Goblin King's. "We'll just put this down in my castle for forensics," he said.

"And what makes you think you have the authority to do that?" Sam protested.

"Actually Sam he's well within his rights," O'Shaughnessy told him, "Lord Jareth is now High Judge of the Muppetville Circuit Court of Appeals."

"Oh, so I guess you run a kangaroo court in Muppetville, don't you?" Sam asked Jareth sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact I do," another wave of Jareth's hand caused a black briefcase to appear. The Goblin King opened it, and out popped a grandstand in which twelve ugly kangaroos were seated. "Hello, hello, hello!" they all called out like a barbershop quartet at Sam. "Tell me Mr. Klubb, where did the frog go after you confronted him at Mr. Golderman's office last night?" Jareth grilled Sam.

"Who do I look like, the Amazing Kreskin?" Sam protested, "Look, don't pulled me into this; it's not my fault if he did this!"

"It disappoints me you're not going to be more cooperative in this matter, Mr. Klubb," Jareth leaned right into Sam's face, "A Muppet has killed a human here, which in today's trouble times constitutes a grave crime. Well, no matter. The frog won't be able to get far; my deputies should be able to catch him."

It was at that moment that a beaten-up red jalopy smashed through the front door of the building and swerved wildly all over the lobby before coming to a sudden stop by the elevators. "The Riverbottom Nightmare Gang?" Sam was surprised at Jareth's choice of deputies.

"Yes, I know, they're lazy and incompetent, but the do have a special skill for tracking their quarry, don't ask me how," Jareth admitted. He yelled at his adjutants, "Fall out in order!"

"At attention, Judge Jareth," Chuck the bear popped out of the jalopy's driver's seat and stood at attention. His fellow Riverbottomers—the Weasel, the Snake, the Lizard, and in its special tank on the back of the jalopy, the Pop-Eyed Catfish—fell into rank after him. "Have you found the frog yet?" Jareth inquired.

"Not yet, but informants looking for frog," Chuck reassured him, "Him come to us in time."

"One more time, Mr. Klubb," Jareth rounded on Sam again. "You wouldn't happen to know where the frog went after he committed this heinous crime?"

Before Sam could answer, he was almost thrown to the ground as something burrowed underneath him. A long trail was being dug by something under the floor. Without warning, a Muppet mole popped out of the center of the room. "Monterrey Bay, here I am!" it exclaimed, throwing down several suitcases, 'Sun and sand and…" it stopped abruptly as it noticed that is wasn't at Monterrey Bay, and that Jareth was now glaring over him. "Oh, Judge Jareth," it gulped, "Well, I was just leaving and…"

Jareth sucked the mole up through the air into his grasp. "You're outside the accepted boundaries of Muppetville," he told it darkly, "That constitutes a major violation of the law. It's my duty as a sworn judiciary to place you under arrest and charge you with trespassing. Members of the jury, please pass sentence."

He turned to his "kangaroo court." "Guilty, guilty, guilty!" each row of kangaroos called out in acapella, then as one shouted, "YOU'RE GUILTY!"

"Sergeant, prepare for the passing of sentence," Jareth informed Chuck. The bear and the rest of the Riverbottom Gang lumbered toward their car. Jareth put on a rubber glove and slowly strolled after them. "How'd he get to be a judge?" Sam had to ask O'Shaughnessy, "Isn't he supposed to be in his own dimension?"

"That's the way we thought it," O'Shaughnessy whispered, "Then one day we woke up and he was a judge. We're still try to figure it out how he did it."

"What're they doing now?" Sam pointed at the jalopy. Chuck had rolled out a grayish barrel from the rear trunk and placed it on the floor. The Pop-Eyed Catfish grabbed hold of the lid and pulled it off. Inside was a steaming, bubbling black liquid. "Remember how we thought you couldn't destroy a Muppet?" O'Shaughnessy said, "Jareth somehow found it. Some secret mixture of acids. He calls it 'the sauna.'"

"The sauna?" Sam frowned, "Where'd he come up with that name?"

"I don't know, probably because it sounded unique enough," O'Shaughnessy supposed.

"Regardless of whether you're willing to be cooperative or not, I'll catch the frog, Detective Klubb," Jareth called to him, "And once I do, he will be executed for his crime like so."

He lowered the mole toward the barrel. "MOOTHHERRR!" the mole shrieked and tried to run to safety, but it was too late. Jareth lowered it into the "sauna," which belched heavy smoke. The mole's screams abruptly stopped, prompting disgusting laughter from the Riverbottom Gang. Once the smoke cleared, Sam saw with shock that all that was left of the mole was a sea of gray fur, several wires and rods, and a pair of ping-pong balls. "Dear God," he grimaced, "That's not the way I want to go out. That's almost inhuman punishment."

"True, Detective Klubb, but neither my associates nor I are human, strictly speaking," Jareth advanced toward him, holding his saturated glove high, "And this is how we handle things in Muppetville these days. I would think you'd be pleased to hear that, seeing how a Muppet killed your family."

Sam shuffled around, uncomfortable with the situation. "I, uh, just remembered, my radio's all fixed up by now, better go swing by the shop and pick it up," he said, turning and walking away. If Kermit had indeed killed Bitterman, he was in for a horrific end once he was caught.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam trudged up the steps to his apartment. For some reason, it had taken him longer to drive home than he normally would have. The thoughts of what he'd seen at the Bitterman International Building had stayed with him. The justice system in Muppetville had certainly changed a lot since he'd last been there. But there was little he could do about anything at the moment, as far as he could see.

He was so wrapped up in thought that he wasn't really watching where he was walking, and as such was somewhat surprised when he tripped over something near his door. "Hey, who put this…!" he started to roar, before noticing that the thing he'd tripped over was Robin the frog. "What are you doing here?" he asked a little roughly.

"Mr. Klubb, I've been waiting here for almost two hours now," Robin said, a nervous tinge to his voice, "My Uncle Kermit couldn't possibly have killed Bitterman. He's a thoroughly nonviolent creature. You'll have to believe me on this."

"I'd like to believe you kid, but all the evidence points against your uncle," Sam said, stepping over the miniature frog to unlock his door, "He got ticked after he saw Piggy selling out and tried to settle the score. He practically said it to my face in Golderman's office."

"That's not why Bitterman was killed," Robin spoke up.

Sam dropped his keys. "Really?" he asked cynically, "Than why was she killed?"

"Jim's will," Robin told him.

"Jim's will," Sam almost laughed, "There is no Henson will. That's an urban legend."

"No it's not," Robin protested, "Jim swore to us he'd written it to make sure we Muppets retained all our rights after he died. He wanted to make sure we'd at least have Muppetville forever. Bitterman had it; she'd kept it locked away, hoping to take us over by force after it's fifteen year provision ran out."

"Fifteen year provision?"

"Yes. If it wasn't made public fifteen years after Jim's death, it would be null and void," Robin explained, "I don't know why he had that written in; it doesn't make sense. Anyway, if you could track it down for us and clear my Uncle Kermit, I'd…"

Sam grabbed the small frog around the chest. "I'm not taking your money!" he snarled, "Like I said hundreds of times before, I DON'T work for Muppets!"

"Would you at least take the tape you shot last night?" Robin held it up, "Maybe if you could find the…"

"How'd you get that tape?" Sam demanded, "That was in Golderman's office safe!"

"Well, for one thing it helps to be small, and secondly, Golderman's safe combination is 1-2-3," Robin told him, "Promise you'll look at it?"

"What if I say no?"

"HELP! POLICE! MURDER!" Robin screamed at the top of his lungs up and down the hall. Sam rolled his eyes. "All right, I'll take it, now beat it!" he snapped, taking the tape with one hand and hurling Robin down the hall with the other. He slammed the door behind him.

"Henson's will," he grumbled to himself as he popped the tape into the VCR, "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. As much as he could have wanted to do it, it would have been impossible to take out…"

Something abruptly caught his eye. He stopped the tape and rewound to just before Bitterman handed Miss Piggy the paper. Hitting pause, he stared intently at the screen. Peeking out of Bitterman's tuxedo pocket was a piece of paper entitled, MY LAST WILL AND TESTIMENT, A MANIFESTO BY JAMES MAURY HENSON. "I don't believe it," the detective mused to himself, "He really did write a will." He thought over the ramifications of this for a moment, but then shook his head, saying, "Ah, that doesn't clear Kermit. He might have wanted to…"

It was then that the doorbell rang. "Package for you, Mr. Klubb," came the mailman's voice. Sam frowned; he wasn't expecting anything in the mail. He opened the door. "I'm not…" he started to say.

"Sign here please," the mailman shoved a signature pad in his face. Sam shrugged and signed it off. The mailman hefted a brown paper package into his hands. "Have a nice day," he said, tipping his hat as he left. Sam set the package down on the coffee table and slowly tore it open…

"Hi ho," Kermit abruptly popped out of it. Sam leaped in the air in shock. "What do you think you're doing in here?" he demanded to the fugitive.

"I didn't know where else to go," Kermit popped out of the box and closed the door, "Everyone in town's on the lookout for me. I knew after last night you'd be reluctant to take me in, so I went to the post office after midnight and wrapped myself up."

"Does anyone else know you're here?" Sam grilled him.

"Nobody," Kermit raised his hand in honor, "I was alone all last night; nobody saw me after I left Golderman's office."

But it was at that moment that there was another knock on the door. "Hey Kermit, you in there?" came Fozzie's voice.

"Of course I could be wrong," Kermit gulped as Sam fixed him with an iron stare. The door opened and Fozzie barreled in. "Oh Kermit it's so good to see you alive!" the bear gushed, giving Kermit an almost suffocating hug.

Gonzo and Rizzo followed Fozzie in. "We were worried all night that you'd been caught and saunaed," the former added, hugging the frog even tighter, "We were…"

"Fozzie, Gonzo, air!" Kermit just managed to weakly gasp, pointing to his throat. Sam pried the bear and whatever off him. "You stupid fools!" he roared at them, "Do you realize the neighbors can hear every word you're saying?"

"So what?" Rizzo shrugged, opening the cabinet and helping himself to some cheese, "It's not like it's any of their business."

"Yeah, but any one of them can call the cops and send us all to jail!" Sam thundered, grabbing the cheese out of the rat's hand, "So get out of here!"

"Why?" Gonzo looked rather confused, "Since you got Kermit into trouble anyway, we figured you'd be willing to help get him out of it, seeing how other than this case you're nothing but a washed-up bum."

Sam grabbed Gonzo's nose and gave it a hard tug. "You said you were alone all night?" he rounded on Kermit.

"I was!" Kermit protested, "I didn't know they'd…"

"We were out all night looking for Kermit," Fozzie explained, "Using a precise mathematical system like those used on Numb3rs, we were able to systematically narrow down Kermit's location to a few blocks, then accurately eliminate…"

"Fozzie," Kermit looked at him, exasperated.

"Uh, basically we lucked out," Fozzie admitted, "We saw Kermit going into the post office in the morning and followed the mail truck here."

"And now you'll all be following the frog out of here!" Sam picked all four Muppets up and carried them toward the door.

"Please Mr. Klubb, you have to believe me, I didn't kill Bitterman!" Kermit protested, "Yes, I got mad when I saw that tape, but I never had any intention of killing her for it! I hung around the Muppet Theater for hours hoping to meet up with Piggy and ask why she did it. She wasn't there, so I wrote up a new contract that would have kept everyone intact."

Sam dropped them all in surprise. "A new contract?" he frowned, "That's your answer to being sold out: a new contract."

"Jim entrusted me with the power to make the business deals," Kermit defended his position, "But once I'd gotten it all typed up, the Riverbottom Gang was after me. They've had me in their sights for years; wanted to take out revenge on me for my uncle Doc Bullfrog bailing out Emmett Otter's family."

"And to probably steal your scarf again," Fozzie interceded. Everyone ignored him. "Then why come to me, the guy who sent you off the deep end in the first place?" Sam had to ask.

"Jim trusted you," Kermit looked sentimental, "He told me just before he died that if any Muppet ever had a problem, they should come to you."

"Well Mr. Henson had…GET OUT OF THAT CHAIR, YOU RAT!" Sam yelled at Rizzo, who'd made the mistake of climbing into the chair at Kate Klubb's desk. Rizzo leaped all the way into the rafters in shock. "All right, fix the hernia!" he protested.

"Nobody sit in my sister's chair," Sam scolded him.

"You know I haven't seen her or your dad and brother lately," Fozzie examined the empty desks, "Are they like on extended vacation?"

"All right, Foz, you're going to jail," Sam grabbed the phone on the wall and began dialing it.

"Oh the cruelty of it," Fozzie moaned melodramatically, "To turn away the people who only come here for help! Is this any way to run a business?"

"Uh, Fozzie, you're overdoing it," Kermit looked uncomfortable with his partner's soliloquy.

"Well there's no need for us to hang around here," Fozzie grabbed Kermit by the arm and started dragging him toward the nearest door, "We can take the hint when we're not wanted!"

"Fozzie, you're embarrassing me!" Kermit growled at him. Fozzie was too caught up in hysterics to pay attention. "Goodbye, Sam Klubb, and good luck!" he finished, slamming the door behind Kermit and himself.

"You stupid bear, that's the bathroom!" Sam yelled at him. There was no response. "He gets like this every now and then," Gonzo tried to explain, "It must be the…"

"Shut up!" Sam pushed past him. He threw open the bathroom door. "Where are you!" he bellowed. He became immediately aware that the shower was running. He threw open the shower curtain…

"EEEEEEEEEKKKKKK!" Fozzie screamed. He was wearing a shower cap and had been washing himself with a brush. "Help, police, intruder, thief!"

He started hitting Sam with the brush, and then turned the showerhead toward him. Sam was completely doused from head to toe. He collapsed to the floor as Fozzie ran out of the bathroom. Kermit popped out of the hamper. "Lesson Number One, don't ever follow a Muppet into a closed room," he informed the detective, "They'll always make it come back on…no Fozzie, don't handcuff him!"

But it was too late. The bear had secured Sam's wrists behind his back. "There, that will keep you nice and secure until the police come to pick you up, you dirty peeper you," he said.

"YOU IDIOT!" Sam rose up and glared down at Fozzie, "I lost the key to these handcuffs years ago!"

"Uh, well," for the first time, Fozzie was looking sheepish, "Uh, well, maybe we could blow it off if…."

"Hey, you guys hear something?" Rizzo suddenly spoke up. The wail of a siren could be heard getting closer. "That doesn't sound good," the rat gulped.

"Doesn't look good either," Gonzo had jumped to the window. A familiar jalopy had totaled a mailbox across the street. Out of nowhere, Wander McMooch lumbered up to it. "The frog's in Klubb's apartment," he informed Chuck.

"Good work, McMooch," Chuck could be heard commending the big toad, "Lord Jareth will be happy that head of his Vigilance Committee fulfills his requirements. Fall out."

The Riverbottom Gang piled out of their car—Chuck helping the Pop-Eyed Catfish into a metal bucket—and rushed through traffic across the street. "Quick, quick, hide Kermit!" Gonzo started panicking.

"I know, he mailed himself in, we'll mail him out," Rizzo opened Sam's desk and pulled out an empty envelope. "Bring Kermit over," he called to Gonzo.

"Uh, Gonzo, I don't think this is going to work—GONZO!" Kermit's pleas were to no avail, as the whatever tried to stuff him into the clearly-too-small envelope. "OK, maybe if we lay him sideways," he figured.

"Suck in your breath, Kermit; we'll get you in easier," Rizzo urged the frog. Mercifully it was at this point that the envelope broke, spilling Kermit to the floor. Footsteps could be heard coming up the steps now. "Uh, anyone got any other plans?" Gonzo asked anyone within earshot.

"I know, we'll pose as canaries," Fozzie suggested, "They're not looking for canaries. You got any yellow paint in here, Mr. Klubb?"

The bear climbed up on a desk and started chirping. Sam backed toward him and grabbed him by the ears. "Will you just shut up while I think over what to do!" he hissed.

There was a knocking on the door. "Open up in name of the law!" Chuck ordered. "Please think of this while you're thinking," Kermit pleaded Sam, "There's no justice for Muppets nowadays. If the Riverbottom Gang gets their hands on me, I'm as good as saunaed. Please don't let that happen, Mr. Klubb!"

"We're coming in shooting at count of five!" Chuck bellowed, "FIVE!"

There was a loud blast as he and his fellow gang members blew the door open. They sneaked into the apartment. "I don't see the frog," the Weasel admitted, glancing around.

"Keep looking," Chuck told him, "Klubb's got him hid somewhere."

The bear heard the same sound of water running in the bathroom. He stormed into it and threw open the shower curtain. "Freeze!" he ordered, hefting a shotgun.

Sam, now wearing the same shower cap Fozzie had moments ago, turned to face him. "It's open, come in," he said innocently. Chuck fortunately didn't take notice that the detective was apparently taking a shower in his underwear or that he was handcuffed—or that his shower cap bulged significantly. The bear climbed up onto the rim of the tub. "Where's the frog?" he demanded.

"I haven't seen any frog," Sam said dismissively.

"You sure?" Chuck growled, "We got sources saying the frog came this way. Bear, rat, and whatever followed him too. Don't give the Riverbottom Nightmare Gang trouble."

"I'd watch yourself, pal," Sam warned him, "If I weren't careful, somebody might make you eat your words, like I'm going to make you eat this!"

He turned around and shoved the soap down Chuck's throat. Mumbling unintelligible words, Chuck stumbled back into the main office spitting bubbles from his mouth. The rest of the Riverbottom Gang burst into laughter at their boss's predicament. Growling loudly, Chuck spit out the soap, which knocked the Pop-Eyed Catfish out of its bucket and into the window. "Shut up!" Chuck roared, grabbing a broom from the closet. He whacked the Snake and Weasel over the head with it, then rammed it down the Lizard's throat, leaving his reptilian comrade a bit wider across the bottom and with a much longer neck. "We're professionals," he told his crew, "We're supposed to act like professionals at all times, Lord Jareth said!"

He walked back into the bathroom. "OK, you're off hook now," he told Sam, "But don't get any bright ideas about crossing us, cause grass don't grow on the places we stop and stand, Klubb."

"Chuck, Chuck, air!" the Pop-Eyed Catfish could be heard screeching in a high voice. Chuck walked out, picked it up where it lay sputtering on the floor, and dropped it back into its bucket. "Off we go," he told the rest of the Riverbottom Gang, who shuffled out the broken door, the Lizard whacking his now much higher head off the doorway. The moment they were gone, Sam took off the shower cap. "All clear," he told the Muppets inside it.

"Boy that was quick thinking, Mr. Klubb," Gonzo wrung himself dry, "I thought for sure they'd catch us there."

"Well, don't ask me to do it again, because I won't," Sam told him. He growled as Rizzo tried to hug him and lunged his chest into the wall, sending the rat, spiraling dazed to the floor. "Got to get these cuffs off," he grumbled, climbing out of the tub and trying his best to dry himself off.

"How about we call Crazy Harry and…" Fozzie suggested.

"NO!" everyone else yelled at him. "We've got to find a new place to stash Kermit, though," Rizzo suggested, opening the medicine cabinet.

"What do you think you're doing now!" Sam yelled at him.

"I need Bayer after that whopping headache you just gave me," Rizzo twisted open the bottle of Bayer inside and tried to swallow the pill—which was at least three times too big for his mouth.

"Well we can't go back to the swamp," Kermit dried himself off with a spare towel, "They'll be looking for me there. You know anywhere to hide us at, Detective Klubb?"

"Let me think," Sam thought it over thoroughly, "Yeah, I know one place, but you'd have to behave absolutely perfectly."

"Sounds good, I'll pack," Fozzie strolled toward the dresser in the bedroom. "Oh no you don't!" Sam rushed after him, "I'M packing for you!"

"What do you mean there was no sign of the frog there?" Jareth demanded to his minions back at his castle.

"We looked all over Klubb's place, boss," the Weasel told him, "No sign of the frog anywhere. It was a bad lead."

"Trust me, it wasn't," Jareth informed him, "Klubb knows more than he's willing to let on."

"We'll go take care of it," the Snake started to slither off. Jareth let out a blast of energy from his hand that sent the reptile flying hard into the wall. "You've already tried that, you fool!" he berated it, "You and your associates have shown again and again you're no good at direct interrogation. So for the meantime my minions will handle our friend Detective Klubb."

Dark laughter echoed all through the chamber as goblins of all shapes and sizes came out of hiding. "I want Detective Klubb brought here and interrogated as to the frog's whereabouts," Jareth informed his underlings. Turning back to the Riverbottom Gang, he ordered, "In the meantime, you five get back on the streets. It's imperative that the frog be tried and convicted for this crime as soon as possible. Now get going."


	6. Chapter 6

"So, have you gotten into the habit of handcuffing yourself like that for long, Mr. Klubb?" the cabdriver asked Sam, who shifted around embarrassed in the back of the taxi. "Uh, no, first time," the detective lied, "Just wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and ended up like this."

"I'll bet," the cabdriver snorted, "That must be embarrassing."

"You want to talk about embarrassing, bud,…" came Rizzo's voice from the garbage bag on the seat next to Sam. Sam slapped it before the rat could get any further. "Just practicing throwing my voice," he said with a big innocent smile, "Little hobby I've picked up." He said in a false voice, "Hey, uh, is that a tiger in your shirt, or are you just glad to see me?"

The cabdriver broke up into laughter—with him or at him Sam couldn't quite make out. "So, what makes you bring your trash this way?" he asked.

"Uh, Oscar called me up the other day, said he wanted more for his can," Sam explained quickly, "I'm dropping it off at Sesame Street; just got to stop by the diner for dinner first."

"Well you're in luck; Oscar's there for the evening," the cabdriver told him, "A whole bunch of the folks are there tonight to welcome David back; he decided to come back for his birthday."

"I thought he died?" came Gonzo's voice from the bag. Sam kicked it twice. "I thought he died?" the detective repeated in a falsetto.

"Ah, the papers like to blow stuff out of proportion," the cabdriver shrugged, apparently having missed hearing the whatever. He pulled over to the curb. "That'll be thirty seventy-nine, Mr. Klubb. And be careful out there tonight with that killer frog on the loose. After what he did to Bitterman last night, he'll do anything to escape justice."

"I'll keep that in mind…uh…" Sam squirmed around, unable to reach his wallet with his hands cuffed behind him, "Uh, could you give me a hand here, mac?"

"Don't mention it," the driver reached over the divider and withdrew Sam's wallet. "Don't take all of it now," the detective warned him, "Keep the change."

He took the wallet in his mouth after the cabdriver had taken the amount needed and hopped out onto the sidewalk. "Well, that was the longest ride of my life," Kermit's voice rang out from the bag, "You can let us out now Mr. Klubb."

"Ahhh, who stepped on my tail?" Rizzo abruptly cried out.

"You did," Fozzie explained. Growling, Sam deliberately dropped the bag to the ground. "OWWW!" all four Muppets inside shouted.

"Do the words 'be quiet' mean anything to you?" Sam hissed loudly at them, "Kermit is the subject of a full-scale dragnet; it would greatly help to shut your mouths and not hint everyone that he's right here!"

"Getting caught up in your work a little too much, Klubb?" sniggered a man walking by, noticing Sam's predicament. "Sam ignored him. "Now I'm going to let you stay here with my ex-fiancé out of the goodness…"

"Ex-fiancé? Is that anything like your y-fiancé?" Fozzie cracked. Sam kicked the bag again. "Don't make me consider dumping you all into the sewer!" he warned them.

"Uh, don't take this the wrong way, Detective Klubb, but I think you'll need to work on anger management a little bit," Kermit suggested.

"Hey dork, having fun?" laughed a group of kids pointing at him. Sam growled again and literally bent over backwards to pick up the bag. "You just had to put these cuffs on me, didn't you, you stupid bear?" he grumbled at Fozzie, "Well, let me get you inside the diner; I owe Henson that much."

"Just so I know, this diner isn't a Doc Hopper Frog Legs joint?" Kermit had to ask.

"No, but I wouldn't rule out taking you there if your amigos don't zip it," Sam told him.

The placard outside the diner read TONIGHT, HOMECOMING RECEPTION FOR DAVID CALLOWAY, 4-7, MUSIC BY ELECTRIC MAYHEM AND SPECIAL GUESTS. MUPPET KAROKE TONIGHT AT 9; MUPPETS WELCOME 9:00-9:10. Upstairs, the diner was already filled to the brim with the usual transients and derelicts that came at dinnertime. They were too immersed at their own tables to bother listening to a familiar psychedelic beat being played out by the Electric Mayhem on a special stage up front next to Rowlf's piano. In addition to the dog, they were joined by Hoots the Owl and several Honkers on stage. "OOOh, one two three four five, six seven eight nine ten, eleven, tweellllllllllve!" Dr. Teeth was just finishing his rendition of the pinball machine song, which culminated with simultaneous (and off-kilter) saxophone blasts from Hoots and Zoot. There was no applause except from the table in the center of the restaurant at which several familiar humans and Muppets were seated. Sam counted familiar faces: Gordon, Susan, Miles, Luis, Maria, Gabrielle, Bob, Mr. Handford, Ruthie—even Mr. Macintosh had shown up to welcome David back. Not to mention the Count, Grover, Cookie, Telly, and numerous other Muppets—not to mention least of all, slurping away at a birdseed milkshake, Big Bird himself. It surprised Sam that many of these non-human residents of Sesame Street would dare coming into such a bad neighborhood, even with parental supervision—but then again, they'd always had a higher outlook of humanity on Sesame Street. The detective was admitted amazed to see David there; he too, like Gonzo had believed he'd died—until David had been featured in a local "where are they now" story, where the detective had learned he'd moved to Dade County and started a manatee preserve. The former part-time owner of Hooper's Store rose to his feet. "Thank you Dr. Teeth on that wonderful rendition of that familiar song," he told the musician in a microphone, "I'm really enjoying your show tonight…."

"So at least it's not a complete bomb for them," Oscar sniggered across the table from him.

"Now Oscar, you promised the Electric Mayhem you'd treat them with respect," Gordon looked the grouch right in the eye, "Like I always tell Miles, it's always best to show someone respect, even if they don't give it their best."

"Except these guys never even came close to best," Oscar counted. "Hey toots, another mud and banana peel special, on the double!" he yelled at a passing waitress, "I'm starving here!"

"And now," Rowlf had taken the microphone on stage, "our special singer of the evening will perform a solo of his own. Here for your listening pleasure is the one, the only, Don Music."

He tried to generate more applause from the other patrons as the stressed-out songwriter made his way to the piano, but only managed to get a half-hearted set of claps from the table nearest the window. "Three, three mediocre claps!" the Count counted them. Everyone grabbed their drinks and lowered their heads as the obligatory lightning flashed overhead. "Thank you for your support," Don Music addressed the crowd, "And now, I will perform my new, remixed version of 'Ladybugs' Picnic.'"

"Why does every good song have to be remixed today like it's some lumpy cake batter?" Gonzo had to inquire from the bag.

"That's the recording industry today, Gonzo," Kermit told him with a sigh, "It's all about the bottom dollar. I can't wait till Golderman hires some obnoxious young diva to redo 'It's Not Easy Bein' Green' without telling me."

There was the drumming of keys as Music warmed up the piano. "One two three, four five six, seven eight…seven eight….seven eight…" he stopped midway through the song, apparently having forgotten how to count to ten. "Oh, it's just no use!" he hyperventilated over the microphone, "I'll never remember this song, never, never, never, never!"

He pounded his head off the keyboard in frustration to a loud chorus of boos, including one from Oscar. "Boring!" the grouch yelled at the songwriter, "Go back to retirement, buddy!"

"I should probably go give him some more advice on the song," Kermit commented. He tried to get out of the bag, but Sam held it tightly shut. "Aren't we forgetting that you're a fugitive?" he asked the frog.

"Fugitive or not, it only takes a little help to go a long way," Kermit protested.

"Hi Kermit," Rowlf said out loud as he passed Sam. The detective took hold of the dog's arm. "How do you know it's him?" he hissed under his breath.

"Who else would Kermit go to but you?" Rowlf responded, "Everyone knows when a Muppet needs help, there's only one place to go, Klubb and Klubb and Klubb and Klubb."

"Not anymore," Sam shook his head, "Listen, go get Connie; tell her I need her right away."

"Gotcha," Rowlf strolled off toward the counter, where Connie was giving a check to the Two-Headed Monster, who was (or was it were?) trying to literally split the bill while spewing gibberish. He couldn't help staring longingly at her. If things had only gone right in the past one way or another…

"Snap out of it, Sam," came Fozzie's voice from the bag, "You're looking at her like she was your mother."

"Who asked you?" Sam growled at him.

"Just thought you'd like to know," Fozzie shrugged.

Sam paid no attention. He watched as Rowlf whispered in Connie's ear. She stared at her one-time love, then walked over to Dr. Teeth and whispered something in the entertainer's ear. Dr. Teeth nodded, and in seconds launched his band (with the exception of Animal, who was pigging out on potato chips behind the counter) into a heavy rock version of "Madame Butterfly" that made just about everybody in the restaurant cringe. Connie walked over to Sam. "I hope you know what you're doing, bringing a wanted fugitive here," she told him, "This won't look good on my resume."

"Hey, I don't even no what I'm doing here," Sam shrugged as he followed her toward the back of the restaurant, "Somehow this was just what I thought of bringing him."

Connie didn't respond. She inserted a card key into an opening in the wall. An entire wine cabinet slid aside, revealing a secret staircase leading down to…nowhere in particular as far as Sam could see. "You might want to hold on to the railing, it's…oh, sorry Sam," she apologized, noticing his handcuffed condition.

"Yeah well I didn't…" Sam was cut off as he abruptly slipped on wet steps and tumbled down thirty-nine steps to the bottom. "Hey, make up your mind, are we going up or coming down!" Rizzo protested, "What kind of restaurant is this, anyway?"

"We specialize in Forties food," Connie ripped open the bag. "It's a good thing I trust your former boyfriend Detective Klubb," Kermit commented, rubbing his nose, "Otherwise I'd report him to the Humane Society for this!"

"I thought we'd never get out of there," Gonzo stretched, "That's the most uncomfortable ride I've ever been on. What's this room supposed to be?"

"We're still not sure," Connie admitted, opening another set of doors to the right, "They added it onto the building for no particular purpose. You'll be safe in here, Kermit."

"Oh boy, a secret hiding room!" Fozzie was beside himself with almost childlike joy. The bear ran into the room and turned on several surveillance camera screens against the far wall. "And cameras to the outside! We should get these for the Muppet Theater, Kermit! We could watch our own performances!"

"You'll have to keep it down, Fozzie," Rowlf had joined them, "This may look like a deep room, but really we're only about three feet under the restaurant."

"Well, as long as it's nice and safe from the authorities, that's all that matters," Kermit plopped down in a worn-out armchair facing an old-time radio, "Does this set get Top Forty Countdown?"

"Is there anything in here that can get these cuffs off?" Sam asked anyone who cared.

"Tools are up here," Rowlf reached for a box on a shelf against the back wall, "Which do you want first?"

"Hacksaw, cut them off," Sam instructed him. Rowlf picked up the hacksaw in the box and began sawing away at the handcuffs. "He sure knows his way around here after only one day," he asided to Connie.

"He lives here too," Connie told him, "His doghouse was repossessed for him failing to pay income taxes."

"You missed taxes?" Kermit was aghast, "Rowlf, why didn't you say anything? I would have loaned you the money."

"Hey, look at that, Cookie Monster's eating the entire set of dirty dishes!" Gonzo and Rizzo were busy watching the monitors. Sam rolled his eyes. He heard a scraping sound behind him. "Uh, I don't think the hacksaw's going to work, Sam," Rowlf told him. He held it up, showing the teeth had been scraped off it. Sam groaned. "All right, what else is in there?" he asked.

"How about a sledgehammer?" Rowlf held it up. Sam sighed. "Fine, but watch where you aim it," he told the dog.

"I thought I heard someone down here," came a small, familiar voice from the floor. Sam glanced down to see five miniature creatures pouring through a hole in the wall. "Sam Klubb?" exclaimed the orange one with purple hair, "I didn't know you lived here in Outer Space now."

"I don't….YYEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!….live here now, Gobo," Sam glared at Rowlf, who'd hit his fingers accidentally, "We're just…."

"The rumors are true then," Boober Fraggle lamented, putting his head against the wall, "Outer Space is overcrowding! Soon there'll be Silly Creatures pouring into Fraggle Rock itself! We're all doomed!"

"Will you keep it down!" Sam snapped at the Fraggle as he started wailing over his species' presumed extinction, "We're harboring a fugitive from the law here!"

"Kermit!" Gobo rushed over to the frog and embraced him—sort of—"We were worried about you!"

"You know him personally?" Sam inquired.

"Kermit was the one who set up our lives to be documented," Gobo informed him, "He was our go-between with Mr. Henson during taping."

"It was a little strange being shrunk to enter the caves of Fraggle Rock, but ultimately it was worth it," Kermit explained, patting the Fraggle on the head.

"News sure travels…OOOOOOOWWWWW!—fast among Muppets," Sam gritted his teeth to try and ignore the pain of Rowlf hitting his fingers again.

"We get instant news from the Underground," Mokey explained. She and others were climbing up the legs of the table Sam and Rowlf were leaning against.

"The Underground. That makes perfect sense…OOOOOUUCCCCHHH!" Sam spun around gave Rowlf a murderous look. "Uh, let's see what else we've got in here," Rowlf rummaged through the toolbox, "How about we use this blowtorch here?"

"What an interesting fashion statement, Detective Klubb," Wembley was staring at the handcuffs, "Gobo's Uncle Traveling Matt says a lot in his postcards that Silly Creatures wear strange clothing these days, but this is more than…"

"Getting back to the big question of the day," Connie cut in to all the essentially pointless jabbering, "You said you'd never take another Muppet case again, Sam? What changed your mind?"

"Nothing!" Sam had to shout over the roar of Rowlf's blowtorch, "Except either Golderman or Bitterman or somebody set me up to rile Kermit up with that video, and I'm going to find out who!"

"Nelson Zigmont," Fozzie abruptly blurted out.

"Who's Nelson Zigmont?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know," Fozzie frowned, "I thought you could tell me."

Sam thumped his head off the wall in frustration. "The blowtorch doesn't seem to be working," Rowlf admitted, "There's got to be something strong enough to break these cuffs."

"There's a drill over here in the corner," Gonzo called.

"Sure, might as well," Sam said…immediately regretting it when he saw the drill was a large construction-style drill. Gonzo placed it over the handcuffs and turned it on. Sam vibrated wildly from it. The tape Robin had given him clattered out of his pocket, nearly crushing Gobo on the floor. "What's this strange thing?" the Fraggle inquired.

"A hideous Fraggle crusher!" Boober gasped.

"NNNNNNNNNooo yyyyyyouu ffffoooooooollll, ittttttt's evvvidddenncccccee!" Sam stammered from the drilling.

"What sort of evidence?" Kermit picked it up and popped in into a convenient VCR nearby. "Good grief!" he exclaimed, noticing the scene Sam had left it on, "Jim's will! I knew Bitterman was holding onto it!"

"YYYYYepp, annnnndd IIIIIII tthhhink ttthhhis wwwwas wwwwhhhy ssshhhhhe wwwas bbbbbbumppedddd offfffffffff," the drill stopped, but Sam continued vibrating. "I don't believe it," Gonzo stared down at the drill, which had been completely damaged, even though the handcuffs were still completely intact, "Will nothing break these cuffs?"

"No use, we'll just have to blow them off," Fozzie had reached into a box labeled DYNAMITE: EXTREMELY EXPLOSIVE (AS IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW). Sam immediately dove behind the table. "The papers didn't say they'd found it, so it's out there somewhere," he said in a hyper voice, "All we have to do is find it before they do—don't come near me that!"

"You'll have to trust me, Detective Klubb, it's for your own good," Fozzie advanced toward him with six lit sticks of dynamite tied together.

"So who would kill Bitterman for the will?" Kermit asked, staring intently at his former boss's manifesto of their fate, "I can't think of anyone that desperate."

"I can; your boss Golderman," Sam backed away from Fozzie, who refused to back off even though the dynamite's fuse was running out, "I'm guessing he wanted to take control and bumped her off. Somehow he…WHAT THE HELL? ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

Fozzie had stuck the dynamite in his hands. Before Sam could let go, a huge explosion blew him all the way across the room into the wall. And even though the explosion had been that big, he could tell it had no effect on the handcuffs. "Good form," Wembley commented from the table, I'd give that a 7.8, how about you, Gobo?"

"Hey, this thing would make a great ride," Red had Gobo's attention at the moment, as the two of them were standing atop the drill, "If we could just shrink it a bit, we could make a fortune producing them."

"Do you Fraggles have a really purpose being here?" Sam's patience wasn't the best at the moment, "Isn't there any way to get these cuffs off?"

He shifted his arm to the right…and found his right hand had gone right out of the cuffs. He swung his arm around to the front and gave the cuff on his other arm a short tug. The handcuff came off as if it were a glove. He sheepishly threw it to the floor. "It's always the last thing you think of, huh?" Rizzo commented.

Sam paid no attention. "I'm going to check out Golderman's office," he told Connie, "If there's computer down here, access public files on Muppetville. Just so I know, could Kermit stay here for a while until the dragnet for him blows over?"

"They're not going to do anything crazy, are they?" Connie watched the Muppets in the room with guarded suspicion, especially now that the Fraggles had started up the drill again and were gaily riding it all over the floor. Fozzie and Gonzo jumped on top of it and joined them. "I can't make any guarantees," the detective sighed.

"I'll do my best to keep the others in check," Kermit volunteered.

"Please do," Sam told him.

He walked toward the door and strutted back into the restaurant. Fortunately, the Electric Mayhem was still playing away at full steam,covering up the sounds of wildness below. No sooner had he walked out onto the street, however, than dozens of hairy hands grabbed him and dragged him into an alley. "Hey, what's going on?" he roared at his attackers, whom he saw were dozens of Jareth's goblins.

"Just sit tight, Detective Klubb," a large brown horned goblin told him, "You're going for a little ride."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam slowly came to; he'd been chloroformed shortly after being caught. A brief look around told him that he was in the middle of Jareth's castle, with it's elaborate stair maze all around him. Gathered in a circle around him, snickering under their breaths, were dozens upon dozens of goblins. "He's awake," one of them pointlessly stated.

"What do you think you're doing, bringing me here like this?" Sam demanded, leaping to his feet. The goblins drew numerous weapons on him, forcing him to back down. "We want to tell you, Detective Klubb, we're not the friendliest of creatures," a short, hunchbacked goblin strolled forward out of the crowd, "Our king has orders to get information out of you, so we'll get it. Now's where's the frog?"

"Frog, what frog?" Sam innocently asked.

"Gee, I don't know," the hunchbacked goblin stupidly shrugged.

"KERMIT THE FROG, YOU MORON!" Jareth's voice rang out above them from seemingly thin air. "Oh yeah, Kermit," a blue goblin in a robe and hood realized, "So where is he Mr. Klubb?"

"I haven't seen him since last night, honest," Sam lied, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm late for dinner."

He tried to push his way through the crowd of goblins, but those in the back held up spears to his face. "If you don't tell us where Kermit is," warned a huge black goblin, "We'll be forced to do something so unpleasant to you it'll ruin your whole day."

"Oh boy, I'd loved to see that," Sam muttered sarcastically.

"OK guys, he wants to see us do it," the huge black goblin told his companions. Immediately Sam found himself being swarmed upon by the goblins, which dragged him toward a door against the far wall—or at least what was probably the wall. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Showing you how we do things downtown these days, Detective Klubb," said an anonymous goblin in the crowd whom Sam couldn't see. The goblins opened the door and pulled him inside, taking care to close it behind him. It was at this point that Jareth materialized out of thin air. He listened with much delight as Sam shrieked and roared behind the door. "I've been wanting to do this for some time now," the Goblin King admitted out loud to himself, "and I picked the perfect sap to do it to."

Sam burst out of the door, covering his head. "Did you enjoy your makeover, Mr. Klubb?" Jareth asked him almost tauntingly, "I think it fitting for you since you so vehemently refuse to cooperate with us. Why don't we have a look at what my legions made you over into?"

He made a mirror magically appear in front of them. Sam took one look at himself in it and let out a shrill scream: his head had been made over into that of a Muppet horse's! "Now why don't you run along back to your dimension," Jareth made a gesture with his hand that blew Sam backwards through a hole in the floor, "And remember, Mr. Klubb, we will find the frog, even if you are trying to hide him."

* * *

"Hey, no horsing around, pal!" one of the street winos laughed at Sam as he staggered back through the streets toward his apartment.

"Very Funnnnnny," Sam was unable to stop himself from rolling the ns, a bad side effect of having his head horsed like this. It was unnerving to realize that he now had a long snout and moveable ears.

There was widespread laughter from a bus of school kids passing by. "We just played H-O-R-S-E at recess today; where we you when we needed you?" one of them called out to him.

"I've head of people being a horse's rear, but never seen anyone who was a horse's head before!" another wino chuckled. Sam lowered his head and ran as fast as he could for home. The sooner he was safely inside, the better.

Once he was, he rushed for the cabinet and dug out a bottle of paint remover and several jars of wart-removing acid. Then he ran into the bathroom and began dumping everything on the horse head. Soon the sink was filled with brown fur and wires. The snout broke off as one, leaving him with clear sight again. He rinsed down the back of his neck to get rid of the mane there, then washed his entire head with a good dousing of water. He looked up in the mirror to see he was thankfully back to normal again.

It was then that he heard the front door close again. Puzzled, he walked out of the bathroom to find Miss Piggy standing in the middle of the room, admiring herself in her compact. "You really shouldn't leave the door unlocked in a bad neighborhood like this, Detective Klubb," she told him.

"I had an emergency," Sam dried himself off with a spare towel, "So what makes you so bent on coming here?"

"I need you to help me find Kermit," Piggy squeezed the compact shut, "I'm so worried about him."

"Why, when you signed that contract with Bitterman to…?"

No I didn't," Piggy told him, "That was just a paper with gibberish on it. Golderman set you up. He said if I didn't pretend to sign myself over to the corporation, neither Kermie nor I would work in show business again."

"Sure don't want to leave Tinseltown, do you?" Sam replied, "So why did Golderman ask you to do it?"

"I have no clue," Piggy insisted shortly, "That fat pig—no offense to myself—tells no one anything, _moi_ included."

Sam's mind was clicking. Golderman looked even guiltier now than ever. But he still didn't have a concrete set of proof the studio magnate had killed off his boss. Without which, Kermit was still destined for a quick bath. And yet there was something in Piggy's eye that looked just a little off kilter. "How do I know you're reasons for wanting to find Kermit are completely moral?" he had to ask.

"Are you saying that you don't trust _moi_?" Piggy looked upon him with an offended look, "Listen Detective Klubb, I'm not bad, I was just built that way. How about we talk over Kermie over a cup of nice hot cocoa? After all, I'm sure a sweet man like you cares as much about the frog of my dreams as you do, you big handsome love machine."

She was now caressing his leg and making strange pig-like noises. Sam had no idea where she was planning to go with this—and fortunately didn't find out, for it was at that minute that Connie abruptly walked into the office. "Sam, what are you doing?" she demanded to him.

Piggy looked at her, then looked the detective right in the face. "Ah, pulling the old love triangle trick behind my back, huh?" she asked roughly, "Well, here's what I say to that, Mr. Klubb: HIIIIIIIIIYYAAAAA!"

She karate-chopped him over his desk and walked briskly out of the office. "Move it, babe!" she pushed Connie aside as she went. The waitress stormed over to the desk. "Would you mind explaining why the pig was trying to seduce you, Sam?" she asked him.

"I honestly have no idea what she was doing," Sam said, pulling himself to his feet, "And I have no intention of having inter-species love with anyone, honest? Did you find anything out?"

"All right," Connie laid a few sheets of paper on his desk, "The public records office says that Henson's will was originally entrusted to his family. Bitterman bought it out from under them a few years ago. The fifteen years run out tonight at midnight, at which point she was going to call in the bulldozers and flatten Muppetville."

"But they don't have the will at the moment."

"No, but if it isn't found, Muppetville will still be up for development for the highest bidder," the waitress explained, "If Kermit somehow did do it, he's faced with…"

"Shhh!" Sam suddenly put his hands to her lips. He walked toward the window and threw it open. A loud swinging tune could be heard from the diner across the street. Along with what was definitely Fozzie's voice. "Oh great!" the detective groaned, "Apparently the concept of being in hiding really doesn't mean anything to them! Come on!"

He took Connie's hand and half-dragged her out the door. Neither of them noticed that Piggy had been crouched outside the hall, listening in on their every word. Nor did they notice the Riverbottom Nightmare Gang popping out of a janitor's bin near the stairs as they ran by. "I knew we'd find the frog hanging around here," Chuck told his gang members, "Call Lord Jareth."


	8. Chapter 8

It was all chaos inside the restaurant when Sam reentered it. Everyone was standing around the band's platform, on which Fozzie was strutting back and forth, looking like he was having a grand old time. "So the two aardvarks walk into the bar," he was telling several derelicts, "They take one look at the stage, and the tall aardvark says to the short one…"

He pointed toward a very uncomfortable-looking Kermit. "Good grief! The comedian's a bear!" the frog said without much emphasis. Despite the weakness of the joke, just about everybody burst into laughter. There was a crash on the opposite side of the stage. Gonzo was juggling drinking glasses for the amusement of patrons. "Not enough you say?" the whatever told his viewers, "Seven glasses isn't enough? Let's try TEN!"

He grabbed three more off the counter…as well as Rizzo. "Hey, do I look like a glass?" the rat protested as he was flung into the air to a multitude of laughs.

"Here's another one," Fozzie strolled over to the Sesame table, "What's the difference between a piano and a fish?"

He pointed his microphone at Luis. "I really don't know," Luis admitted.

"You can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish; wokka wokka wokka!" Fozzie broke up himself at this one, as did everyone at the Sesame table, except for Oscar.

"But both can drive their REO Speedwagons," Kermit quipped. He noticed the detective standing behind them looking rather livid. "Uh, Fozzie," he tapped the bear on the shoulder.

"In a minute, Kermit," Fozzie told him without looking back.

"Fozzie, Detective Klubb's…"

"Detective Klubb, good source," Fozzie still wasn't paying attention, "Detective Sam Klubb is so strict, his…"

Sam grabbed the bear by his necktie before he could finish the joke. "He's so strict, that I think he just cancelled the rest of the show," Fozzie said with a weak voice, "Thanks you, you've been a great audience."

Dragging Fozzie along by his tie, and with Kermit under his arm, Sam stormed over to the stage and collected Gonzo and Rizzo roughly, letting all the glasses fall to the ground and break. Then he strode toward the secret opening and tossed them all down the stairs. "Was that trip really necessary?" Gonzo complained.

"You stupid Muppets!" Sam seethed, sealing the entrance closed again, "I'm out there risking my own career for Kermit, and you're practically screaming for the cops to come out there!"

"It was his idea," Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo and Rizzo all pointed at each other.

Sam took a hard, threatening step towards them, forcing them back into the main hiding room. "Show's over already?" Red asked from the bank of camera monitors, where apparently she and the other Fraggles had been watching the performance upstairs, "Darn, and it was just getting good, too!"

"It shouldn't have started to begin with!" Sam glared down at the fugitives.

"But those people up there are so unhappy!" Fozzie protested, "We could just see it in their eyes on those monitors! We had to do something to cheer them up!"

"They'll be cheered up all right once they call the police!" Sam thundered, "Everybody up there would turn Kermit in for a penny! How'd you get up there, anyway? We locked the door tight when we left!"

"We used the air vents," Gonzo explained, "Look, Detective Klubb, we were just trying to make people feel better."

"I didn't really want to blow the cover," Kermit tried to rationalize with the detective, "But Fozzie's right, most of them clearly needed some joy in their life. And Jim always said that joy and laughter are the best gifts you can give someone. I'd even go so far to say…"

Just then an alarm started ringing throughout the room. "The Wild Doozers are coming!" Boober cried from the monitor bank, "Superstition always said they'd come with loud cries to pillage all in their path!"

"That's an alarm, you fool, not Wild Doozers!" Sam retorted, "Moke, show me some more angles up there."

"Right," Mokey, who was closest to the cameras' switching button, jumped on it repeatedly. "Stop there," Sam instructed her after the third time.

"Oh no!" Kermit groaned. For Jareth was striding into the restaurant above. "I'm looking for a murderer," he informed the patrons, who'd gone stark silent with his arrival.

"Let me see that," Sam pushed Mokey aside and pressed the button himself several more times. The Riverbottom Gang was blocking the exit, and a reflection from the window hinted that at least a dozen goblins lined the street outside. Escape seemed a huge risk. Upstairs on the screen, Jareth strolled casually around the diner, causing people he passed to shrivel in fear at him. "More specifically, I'm looking for a frog about the height of this…thing," he pointed at an offended Cookie Monster.

"I haven't seen a frog all day," Connie was back behind the counter, trying to look normal, "So you're wasting your time in here, sir."

"I think not," Jareth told her, "All evidence says the frog came this way, and if any of you know anything," he addressed the entire restaurant, "which I think you do, anyone willing to step forward with information on his whereabouts will receive ten bags of gold with at least a billion dollars."

"Well, he sure loves skimming with bankruptcy," Gonzo commented.

"Shhhh!" Kermit hissed at him, "We're only a little below the floor, remember!"

"Anyone?" Jareth announced to the crowd, "One frog for one billion dollars."

"Hey," came a voice, "I think I saw a frog lately."

Kermit gulped nervously. "Where?" Jareth asked, approaching the Sesame table.

There was a long pause. "Aw shucks!" the person said in a clear Texas accent, "I can't remember!"

Kermit breathed a big sigh of relief. "Good old Forgetful Jones, for once I'm glad his memory's so bad," he whispered.

In a sudden move, Jareth grabbed the cowboy by the throat. "Think, you cowardly cowpoke, where was he?" he demanded.

"Hey!" Gordon rose up, looking steamed, "That's no way to treat anyone!"

Jareth tossed Forgetful Jones toward him. "He's not worth it anyway, worthless bonefish," he grumbled.

"Lord Jareth, look what band's been playing," Chuck had seized the music sheet from the podium in front of Zoot. Jareth strode over and took a look at it. "Ah, the Muppet Show theme," he cackled darkly, "Rather strange selection for an uncouth crowd like this."

"It was a special request," Zoot said innocently.

Jareth waved toward the open window. One of his crystals floated in. "Ah, I see," the Goblin King smiled as he looked into it, "Our frog is here after all!"

"Uh oh," Kermit gulped again, "I forgot he could do that!"

"We've got to hide you again, Kermit; quick, everybody, look for a hidden closet or something!" Fozzie picked up his friend and ran around the room looking for an exit. Unfortunately all he ended up doing was trip and knock over a stack of boxes. Upstairs, Jareth whirled at the sound from below. "And what might that have been, I wonder?" he inquired to Connie, who strained hard to maintain an innocent look.

"Oh, I can't get along, little donkey," Rowlf began playing his piano and singing hard to try and cover up any more noise, "I can't even get one that's small. I can't get along, little donkey…"

Jareth fired blasts of flames from his fingers that set the piano on fire. Coughing, Rowlf staggered away from it. "There'll be no further delays in this matter," the Goblin King announced, "The frog is going to come right to me now."

"I'll get the bulldozer," Chuck nodded.

"No sergeant, we won't need to go to that extent," Jareth told him, "I have something simpler in mind."

He held out his palm level with the ground and jerked it upwards. Down below, Kermit abruptly was jerked up into the air. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked in shock.

"Quick, grab hold of him!" Rizzo jumped for Kermit, but it was too late; Kermit smashed through the floor and flew up into Jareth's grasp. "Hello frog," the judge of Muppetville greeted his quarry, "Enjoy your brief run from justice?"

The Riverbottom Gang surrounded the large hole in the floor with guns cocked. "There's more down there, Lord Jareth," Chuck told him, "What we do with them?"

"Bring them up here," Jareth told him, "We'll deal with them in due time. Right now, though, we've got a sentence to carry out."

"Uh, I believe I get one telephone call?" Kermit pleaded to no avail. The Riverbottom Gang, with the exception of the Pop-Eyed Catfish, who obviously couldn't go anywhere, jumped down the hole. "All you move!" Chuck ordered, "You too, you Fraggles! You're all guilty of harboring fugitive!"

"Please don't kill us for that!" Fozzie pleaded as they were forced back up the stairs, the Snake dragging the Fraggles along in its coils, "We'll be perfectly happy with a hundred years to life!"

"We don't do plea bargains," the Weasel said.

"I know," Gobo commented, "You lied to Convincing John about that before you saunaed him."

"Convincing John guilty of grave civic crime," Chuck reprimanded the Fraggle.

"And what was that?" Sam had to know.

"Jaywalking," the bear told him. They reentered the restaurant, where Jareth just opening the briefcase containing his "kangaroo court." "Kermit T. Frog, you have been accused of the brutal and cold blooded murder of Rachel Bitterman," the Goblin King announced, "Will the jury please pass sentence?"

"Guilty, guilty, guilty! YOU'RE GUILTY!" the kangaroos sang out at Kermit.

"Wait, I'd like to take the stand!" Kermit protested. Jareth closed the briefcase up again without listening. "Sergeant, bring me some sauna," he told Chuck.

Chuck nodded and strolled out the door. Minutes later he returned carrying a barrel of sauna. Jareth opened the lid. "Any last words before you meet your fate?" he asked the frog.

"Yes: Don't do it!" Kermit pleaded. "Hey buddy!" he looked at the Lizard, "I know your brother Lenny personally; we practically started in show biz together! Put a word in with your boss here for his sake, please!"

"I hate Lenny," the Lizard said, "He hogged all the glory in the family."

The bathroom door abruptly slammed open. "Do not fear, little froggie!" came a high voice from a figure in a red cape and metal helmet, "Super Grover will save you! Take this, you knave!"

He flew straight at Jareth, shrieking at the top of his lungs as he did. Bored, Jareth held out his hand and waved it to the side as Super Grover came near. The would-be superhero was deflected to the left and kept going, crashing through the wall out into the street. "And now without any further interruptions, we will proceed with the execution," he said, carrying a shaking Kermit toward the barrel.

"Poor Kermit," Fozzie lamented, removing his hat, "This is no way to go out! And I'll never get to test my new Funny Water gag on him, either!"

"Funny Water?" it was then that Sam noticed the bottle sticking out of Fozzie's back pocket. He grabbed it and read the directions. A smile lit up his face. "Hey Jareth!" he called out seconds before Kermit hit the sauna, "Shouldn't you give a condemned frog a last meal?"

"What sort of meal?" Jareth inquired.

"I think Kermit would like one last drink," Sam walked forward with the bottle, 'Wouldn't you, Kermit?"

"Do I have a choice?" Kermit asked.

"No."

"Then it's OK by me," Kermit took a swig from the bottle. Immediately, he tensed up and started inflating like a balloon. "What's going on?" an anonymous customer asked.

"What's going on is we need to hit the deck!" Bob had apparently seen what was about to happen happen before. He grabbed hold of Big Bird and covered him—no small task with a bird that was eight feet big. Seconds later, Kermit burst from Jareth's grasp with enough force that the Goblin King was sent collapsing backwards to the floor and bounced crazily all around the room while letting out a peanut-whistle shriek. "Funny Water, I love it, "Sam commended Fozzie. "Catch him when he falls; I've got business to take care of."

He saw the Riverbottom Gang coming right at them. He rushed forward toward them. In a flash he flattened the Weasel with a left hook and slugged the Lizard into Jareth with a right cross. Then he kicked the Snake into the wall, freeing the Fraggles. "Good thinking, Detective Klubb," Gobo lauded him.

Sam didn't have time to respond. A squirt of water was coming from the Pop-Eyed Catfish on the table. He picked up a chair and whacked it out of its bucket. Before he could make his next move, though, Chuck was upon him. The bear connected with the detective's face on three consecutive punches. He reared his claw back to slash him, but Sam quickly grabbed a beer keg behind the counter and smashed it over Chuck's head. Meanwhile, Fozzie climbed up on top of an empty table and caught Kermit just as he was running out of gas and spiraling toward the barrel of sauna. "Gotcha you, whoa!" he stumbled and fell off the table, knocking the barrel over. Everyone in its path, Jareth included, jumped for cover.

"All out who wants to leave," Gonzo loudly announced, waving them down the stairs. Sam grabbed up both Kermit and Fozzie and ran after them. There was a huffing sound coming up the stairs. "Don't worry Kermit, I'll save you!" Super Grover was gasping as he staggered back up the steps looking incredibly dazed.

"No need, Grover, I'm already saved," Kermit informed him.

"It's Super Grover, please," the monster told him.

The street was crowded with goblins when they emerged—as well as Wander McMooch. "Hold it right there you…!" the big toad ordered before Sam flattened him with a right jab. Goblins charged at them from all directions, brandishing numerous weapons.

"There's the bus; hey, wait for us!" Gonzo yelled at the large blue bus pulling over to the curb across the street. They ran over to it. "Where's this baby going?" Sam asked the driver.

"The suburbs; do you have exact change?" the driver asked.

"Uh look, can we pay you when we get there?" Kermit asked, noticing out of the corner of his eye the goblins charging across the street at them.

"Exact change now or—wait a minute, you're the killer frog," the driver squinted at him, "I'd better call you in and…!"

Sam grabbed him and hurled him out the door. "Sorry to do that, but it's for everyone's good," he said, jumping into the driver's seat and jerking out into traffic just as the goblins reached the stop.

"Uh, attention everyone," Rizzo was instructing the stunned passengers on board, "We'll be driving for a little while now, don't worry, everything's perfectly under control. Please remain in your seats until the bus comes to a…what are you doing, Fozzie?"

The bear was making strange gestures next to him. "I'm giving them the sign language, Rizzo," he told him, "They always give the sign language."

"You never know when to stop, do you?" Sam rolled his eyes, "Well at least we don't have to worry about those goblins."

But it was then that there was the sound of objects being broken underneath the bus. Seconds later a reddish goblin abruptly appeared in the window. "Pop quiz, hotshot!" he taunted Sam, "Your brake line's cut. There's no way you can stop this bus. What do you do? What do you do?"

He let out a cackle and jumped to the street. "Run around in circles screaming at the top of our lungs?" Fozzie suggested. He then did just that. "Come on everybody, it's time to panic!" he called to the passengers, who needed no hint to start screaming themselves. Sam rolled his eyes and drew his gun. He fired a shot into the roof, which stopped everyone's hyperventilation. "Didn't the rat just say remain in your seats?" he asked over the intercom, "Now just stay calm."

"And assume crash positions," Rizzo added.

"Uh oh, I think we've got company!" Gonzo was looking out the rear door. The Riverbottom Gang's jalopy was now hot on their heels. Chuck leaned over the windshield and started firing away at the bus. "Me blow frog's head off!" he roared.

Sam swerved wildly in between cars to avoid the shots. I hate it when we can't stop these things!" he muttered disgustedly, "There's got to be some way we can ditch these clowns and get this thing stopped."

"Uh, Mr. Klubb, see that woman?" Kermit nervously pointed out the window. A woman was pushing a baby carriage across the street ahead. She saw the bus coming and screamed, as did everyone on board the bus…which made no difference whatsoever, as they missed her by a mile. "That was rather pointless," Gonzo commented.

"We're off the route!" an elderly woman demanded to him, "I want my money back!"

"Uh, Mr. Klubb, how do we handle refunds?" Gonzo called to the detective, who was too busy concentrating on the road. Thus, he was unable to see a crystal bat carrying the big black goblin above them. The goblin lit a stick of dynamite and tossed it through the open bus window. "Oh, thanks," Rizzo caught it. Then he realized what he was holding. "YIIIKE! Kermit!" he tossed it to the frog. Kermit retched at the sight of it and threw it to Fozzie. Fozzie, already panicked, tossed it to Gonzo, who threw it back to Rizzo, who tossed it to Kermit, who threw it back to Gonzo.

"Allow me," the elderly woman took it off the whatever and threw it out the window, where it blew up the goblin and crystal bat in midair. "Oh," Gonzo said sheepishly, Didn't think of that…whoa!"

The bus had to make a very wide turn and almost flipped over. Worse, they'd now entered a part of the city that had been rebuilt to look like the North Pole—including instantly slippery roadways even in the heat of summer. The bus slid out of control all over the road, running several other cars off the road. Sam pulled the wheel hard to avoid collisions. "Anyone got any ideas how to slow this thing down?" he asked over the intercom.

"I'll take care of it," Kermit had gone toward the back of the bus. He now reappeared dressed in a S.W.A.T. team uniform and carrying a blowtorch. "Where'd you get that?" Sam asked.

"It was just lying behind the back seat," Kermit explained, "That's one of the perks of being a good guy; you'll always find a convenient items at the right time. Fozzie, pop that floor panel. I'm going to fix that broken brake line."

"Aye aye, Officer Kermit," Fozzie did just that. Kermit hefted an equally convenient sled and slid down underneath the bus. "Keep her steady, Detective Klubb," he called up, "The slightest movement could set everything off down here."

"Train, train!" Rizzo pointed in terror. A large tanker train was lumbering across the road ahead. Sam had no choice but to make a wild U-turn at the last minute. "DID I NOT JUST SAY HOLD HER STEADY?" Kermit yelled in protest.

"Uh guys, now there's legitimate cops right behind us!" Gonzo groaned. Several squad cars had joined the chase.

"We'll lose them here on Sesame Street," Sam swerved to the right. No cars were allowed on Sesame Street. "WILL YOU QUIT WITH THE WILD TURNING?" Kermit yelled up again from his perch underneath the bus. The frog activated the blowtorch and started fusing the brake line back together.

Meanwhile, things weren't quite going Sam's way. The police had refused to pull off and were now chasing him up the middle of Sesame Street at almost eighty miles an hour. And worse, Mr. Snuffleupagus was in the middle of the road, merrily crossing the street at a leisurely pace. "Why couldn't he be imaginary now!" Sam groaned as he made a wide turn to the right at the last minute to avoid the giant elephantine creature. As a result, a large hole was left in the front window of the Fix-It Shop.

"There, I think I got it," Kermit called up from under the bus, "Try the brakes now."

Sam pressed the pedal—which sank straight to the floor. "Brakes are gone anyway!" he called down, "Get out of there, Kermit!"

There was a thump as they hit a large pothole. "EEEEYYYYIIIIII!" Kermit screamed over the sound of the cable snapping. "Kermit, Kermit are you all right down there?" Fozzie called down worriedly. There was the sound of the sled being crushed by the tires. "Oh poor Kermit!" the bear lamented, "He avoids the sauna, only to get…"

"AAACCCKKKKKKK!" it seemed Rizzo could do little more than panic anymore—but this time his reason was legitimate, as the Riverbottom Gang was directly in front of them and driving straight at them. "Ramming speed!" Chuck chuckled darkly, pressing down on the accelerator.

"Quick, drive up the wall!" came Kermit's voice again.

"Hey, that's rather quick," Gonzo commented, "Kermit's back from the dead already?"

"No!" a very much alive and well Kermit climbed in through the window, covered with brake fluid for some inexplicable reason, as well as motor oil, "Physics don't apply on Sesame Street. We can drive up the wall, Detective Klubb, trust me!"

"If you say so," Sam shrugged. At the last second before the jalopy would have rammed him, he swerved toward the wall. Just as Kermit had predicted, the bus amazingly left the ground and drove sideways along the wall ten feet off the ground. Below them, the Riverbottom Gang was unable to stop and were all sent flying through the air as they collided with the police cars.

"Whew, that was close," Sam breathed as he guided the bus back down to the road, "How'd you survive, Kermit?"

I'm a frog, I know how to leap to safety in a crisis," Kermit told him, "I'll tell you, that brake line was cut pretty bad."

"You can tell us more after the road ends," Rizzo pointed ahead again. The highway was abruptly ending at a ramp approaching the river. Everyone screamed as they smashed through numerous signed labeled STOP…HALT…ROAD ENDS…TURN BACK…HEY…THESE….SIGNS…ARE…EXPENSIVE…SO…STOP…BREAKING…THEM and launched over the chasm. For what seemed an eternity, the bus hung in midair, seemingly unable to make the far side of the river, but with some coaxing from Sam, just managed to land on the opposing ramp.

"OK, time to take matters into my own hands," Fozzie sat down over the open floor and jammed his feet down on the road. Sparks flew everywhere, but Fozzie was able to somehow stop the bus—albeit at the cost of having his legs reduced to mere stumps. "All off for…" Gonzo looked out the window, "…the jungle ward."

There was a mass stampede for the door by everyone on board the bus, all of whom looked much worse for wear; one woman had apparently tried to put on makeup during the rough ride and was now looking like an Indian in war paint. "Well, that was kind of unnecessary," Rizzo commented, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think we just did it to parody those runaway bus films."

"Oh never mind," Sam shook his head, "We've got to find a new place to hide Kermit."

"And fortunately," Kermit glanced out the window at the nearest signpost, "There's a place I know on this block."


	9. Chapter 9

"Gee Mr. Lizard," the eager young dinosaur in the striped shirt on the TV screen said, "How is this nuclear pile supposed to work?"

"Why don't you experiment to find out, Timmy?" said the dinosaur in the lab coat hovering over him, "In the meantime, I'll stand behind this protective lead shield."

He stepped behind it as Timmy pulled a couple of control rods from the pile…and was promptly blown to bits by a huge nuclear reaction. Once it was over, Mr. Lizard stuck his head out, examined the mess before him, turned to the camera, and said with just a tinge of sadism, "Looks like we're going to need another Timmy!"

On the floor, Fozzie broke up into laughter. "I just love this show!" he confided in the large green dinosaur in the red plaid shirt seated on the couch behind him, "I watch it every chance I get. I hope to use some of the experiments here as jokes."

"It would be better than the rest of your acts," the elderly female dinosaur in the motorized wheelchair cracked as she rode by, "I've been down at the theater a lot; you haven't gotten any better at all lately."

Fozzie looked insulted. Sam walked out of the kitchen, a sandwich and soda can in hand. "Thanks again for letting us stay here, Earl," he told the dinosaur on the sofa.

"It was the least I could do for Kermit," Earl Sinclair patted the frog on the back, "He got us such a high-profile TV job in the first place."

"I still think we should have gone to a movie theater," Gonzo commented from the kitchen.

"What good would a movie theater be?" Robbie Sinclair argued over a slurp of soda, "There's hundreds of people in there."

"Yeah, but I just have this gut feeling we should be in a movie theater," the whatever said.

Sam, meanwhile, wasn't paying attention to anyone. He was keeping watch over the window. No one was aware of their presence in the Sinclair house, and he intended for it to stay that way. Technically the Sinclairs weren't eligible to be living in the jungle section of the city, but local authorities had granted special permits. They were still forced to more or less keep their identities secret, though, which was the reason a robotic human slid by the window on a track, saying, "I love your suit today, honey." Sam was rather annoyed by these, but he knew they were essential to the ruse.

There was a knock on the door at that moment. Drawing his gun, he threw himself flat against it. "Nine, nine, nine, let's sing a song of nine," he spoke up the first line of the password.

"How many is nine?" came Scooter's voice.

"Nine noodles," Sam added his next line.

"Nine nails."

"Nine lights."

"Nine mice."

"Nine quarters."

"Nine…uh…WHHHOOOOOOOOOOAAAAA!" Scooter fell down the front steps.

"Close enough," Sam unlocked the door and let him in. "Here's the fly omelet platter you ordered, Kermit," Scooter handed it to the frog.

"They even added the lily pad sauce," Kermit licked his lips in delight, "Thanks Scooter, good work."

"That's why you hired me as a gofer," Scooter said with pride.

"And because his uncle owned the theater," Rizzo snorted from the coffee table. Scooter paid no attention. "Hey little guy," he bent down and made a big false grin at the Baby in Earl's lap, "You know who I am?"

"Not the mamma!" the Baby hit him over the head with a frying pan that just happened to be nearby. "Ask a dumb question," a dazed Scooter groaned as he staggered away.

"Nothing for me?" Earl leafed through the bag that had contained Kermit's dinner, a disappointed look on his face.

"Earl, you know I'm making dinner in just a half hour," Fran took the bag out of his hand and shook a finger at him, "If you'll just wait a little longer…"

"Oh boy, here we go again!" the Baby pointed at the screen. Mr. Lizard now had the latest "Timmy" strapped to a large ICBM missile. "You'll be able to judge the schematics of aeronautics when I push this button, Timmy," he told his young attendee, "Ready?"

"Ready, Mr. Lizard!" Timmy said enthusiastically. Mr. Lizard pressed the launch button, and the missile took off—only to immediately lurch around and fall straight into the ground, exploding in a massive fireball.

"Say it!" Fozzie and the Baby yelled excitedly at the screen.

"Looks like we're going to need another Timmy!" Mr. Lizard said at the camera right on cue. "Wokka wokka wokka!" Fozzie hit himself with his hat, "Now this is a reality show I like! How about you, Detective Klubb?"

He turned to the detective, who had been watching the program, but hadn't cracked the smallest smile. "Boy, you're a really tough nut to crack," the bear mused, "Wait, I know."

He ran into the kitchen. "Let me have one of those old pies, Fran," he could be heard asking the Sinclair matriarch. Running back in with an expired whipped cream pie, he abruptly threw it in Sam's face. "If that doesn't make you laugh, nothing will," he said with conviction. Instead of laughing, however, Sam grabbed him by the necktie again. "Are you trying to get me to consider choking you to death?" he warned Fozzie.

"Uh, would you prefer if I used a lemon meringue?" Fozzie asked weakly.

"Uh, Fozzie, how about I talk things over with Detective Klubb?" Kermit interceded. Taking Sam's hand, he led him toward the broom closet and knocked on the door. "Mind if we take up the closet for a little bit, Charlene?" he called in, "You have had it for a half hour or so."

There was a sigh as the Sinclair's daughter reluctantly opened the door. "I knew I'd get no privacy with guests here!" she said to herself as she walked out, phone in hand.

"You can have it back when we're done," Kermit told her. Closing the door behind him, he told Sam in the dim light, "So, something's got to be bothering you to make so burned out and nihilistic toward us."

"And you really think I'm going to tell you?" Sam said.

"Well, call me loco, but I just think that people can ease any pain if they bring out what's bothering them," Kermit said.

Sam sighed, having the distinct feeling Kermit was going to keep him there until he brought it out. "OK, if you really want to know, a Muppet killed my family," he said, pain in his voice at the unpleasant memories, "About four years ago, we were investigating the big robbery at the Muppetville Last National Bank. It was some big evil Muppet, the one that had murdered Mr. Hooper. He was so powerful he took the entire bank with him, so he was easy to follow. But we didn't know that was what he wanted us to do. He lured us to the business district, then dropped a giant boulder on us from thirty stories. Broke just about every bone in my body. I was just conscious enough to watch him laughing at us with each of his two heads. I'll never forget him, with those burning red eyes, those flapping wings, and that sick laugh. Then I passed out. When I woke up I learned Dad and Kate died instantly, and Jimmy went in the operating room. I crawled into the soda bottles and I've stayed there ever since."

"They never caught the guy, did they?" Kermit asked, a horrific look on his face at the thought of one of his fellow Muppets committing such cold-blooded murder.

"Nope," Sam shook his head, "Nobody's heard from him since then. I keep petitioning the cops to keep up the watch for them, but they've considered it a cold case for years now." He sighed deeply. "There was once a time I enjoyed working Muppetville, but that jerk ruined every chance of that."

"Now don't say never," Kermit put a sympathetic hand on the detective's shoulder, "You can't blame all the Muppets for an act of one, Detective Klubb. Sure, there are some that are anarchical…well, actually, most of us are…but there's as many good ones out there as bad. That's what Jim always said, to believe in the better part of humanity. You can't look at the bad, or you'll be consumed by it."

"Do you just happen to model every facet of your life after everything Henson said?" Sam had to ask.

"As a matter of fact yes," Kermit said, a look of high reverence on his face for his former boss, "Jim was the exact model for my life. I owe a lot to him. He cared for me and everyone else like we were his own children."

"Ah, give me a break," snorted Grandma Ethyl, who had apparently been eavesdropping outside. Kermit frowned. "But anyway," he told Sam, "I owe it to Jim to find that will by tonight. If not, it'll be the end of everything he tried to build."

"Well, I'm on your side now, Kermit, but I don't know where else to start," Sam admitted, "There's no more leads I can see."

There was a hard knocking on the closet door. "Are you done yet?" Charlene sounded rather impatient.

"Yeah, yeah, it's all yours again," Sam opened the door and let her back in.

"Dinner's ready," Fran walked out of the kitchen with a tray of food for everyone else, "Who asked for the fried cheesecake?"

"That's me," Rizzo grabbed it and began eagerly devouring it.

"Six o'clock, kids," one of the fake human robots looked up at the clock, "Time for the evening news."

The fake robotic kids cheered. "You know, this is a really dumb system," Sam couldn't help confiding in Earl as he turned to Channel 10 and the news.

"It works for me," Earl shrugged between bites of a steak sandwich, the meat of which didn't look at all cooked to Sam. "Seventy million years of evolution, and the brain power…" he muttered under his breath.

"Hey, I love this show," Gonzo pointed at the promo for Tricera-Cops on the screen, "Freeze!" one of the titular characters was yelling at a suspect on the screen, "Up with the hands, buddy!"

'I can't! I'm a brontosaurus!" the suspect protested. The other Tricera-Cop produced a bazooka and blew the brontosaurus away. "Yeesh," Kermit grimaced at the sight, "I swear, TV's just getting more and more violent these days."

"Compared to the things you used to do?" Grandma Ethyl inquired.

"Shhh!" Sam hissed as the news started. "Good evening fellow dinosaurs, I'm John Fossil," the stegosaurus anchor told the viewing public, "Tonight's top story, accused murderer Kermit the Frog is still at large tonight. Muppetville High Judge Lord Jareth has upped the bounty for the alleged killer of Rachel Bitterman to five billion dollars. If you have any information as to his whereabouts, please call 1-800-SQUEALER, all calls are not confidential."

"He's really getting desperate," Robbie commented, leaning over the sofa, "Ever he doesn't have that much money."

"Nope," Earl agreed with his son, "Mr. Richfield was ranked five slots ahead of him on the latest Forbes 5,000,000,000 list of…"

"Quiet!" Sam held up his hand. John Fossil was relating the next piece of news, "…Fred Golderman, chairman of Golderman pictures, has placed a formal bid for the Bitterman empire. Golderman, whose latest Frogbo picture is reported as being in financial and creative trouble, is rumored to be heavily in debt from gambling bills incurred during…"

"That's it!" Sam snapped his fingers, "That's his motive!"

He grabbed his coat. "I'm going to have a talk with our friend Golderman," he announced to everyone, "Keep an eye on Kermit while I'm…wait, on second thought, Kermit better come with me."

"Why?" Kermit had to inquire.

"I'd like to know for sure you'll be safe," Sam told him.

"You don't trust anyone?" Kermit gestured at the Sinclairs, "Detective Klubb, if you want to start living again, you're going to have to accept that you can trust people."

"Normally, I would, Kermit, but with circumstances being what they are, I'd rather play it safe," Sam scooped him up.

"So I guess we stay here, then?" Scooter asked, walking out of the kitchen with a large icepack of his forehead where the Baby had struck him.

"Yes. While I'm gone, Earl," Sam looked the dinosaur right in the eye, "Do not, under ANY circumstances, let anyone in. I want this place to stay an option until Kermit's cleared, got it?"

"Got it," Earl gave Sam a powerful high five that sent the detective sprawling. "He fall for you, Daddy," the Baby laughed at his father.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sam picked himself up and left with Kermit firmly in hand. Everyone left turned back to the news. "I want the TV at eight," Fozzie announced to Earl, "I never miss Mr. Ugh."


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Detective Klubb," Kermit confided in his protector as they pulled onto the Golderman Pictures parking lot, "Mr. Golderman isn't the nicest of guys when he finds he's been had. Telling him you've got Jim's will when you don't is dangerous."

"That fat oaf doesn't scare me," Sam snorted, shutting off the engine, "I can best him any day. Now what I want you to do, Kerm, is watch the lot here. Make sure no one else comes around to back Golderman up."

"And if the Riverbottom Gang shows up?" Kermit inquired.

"Give a yell or something, I don't care, just anything that I'll hear but won't tip off the rest of the neighborhood you're here," Sam shrugged, "If I'm not back in ten minutes, come up."

"Fair enough," Kermit nodded. He watched Sam slip through a conveniently unlocked door and flattened himself up against the wall so he was out of view from the street. "I hope he's quicker than ten minutes," the frog said softly to himself, "I hate being out here in the open like this."

Then he shook his head. "Come on Kermit, you're getting paranoid," he told himself, "No one else knows you're here."

But it was at that moment that a shovel hit him on the head, knocking him senseless. The last thing Kermit saw before he blacked out was a strange face looking down at him—a face with rather rough eyes and a long snout.

* * *

In the meantime, Sam slowly crept upstairs toward Golderman's office. He could hear the sound of nervous footsteps pacing around inside. The executive had sounded nervous when Sam had called him a half hour ago claiming he had Henson's will. What else he was hiding the detective was determined to find out.

The office door was slightly ajar. Through the crack Sam could see Golderman standing by the window taking a swig of whiskey. He waited until he was midway through a gulp before knocking on the door, so that when Golderman jumped in shock, he spilled the whiskey all over his chest. "Who, what, why?" he cried out in shock.

"Special delivery for Fred Golderman," Sam called out, striding into the office, a rare grin on his face.

"Please don't do that!" Golderman yelled at him, "My nerves can't take it, Klubb! You've got the will?"

"Yeah, but…!"

"But nothing; give it to me!" Golderman snatched the paper Sam had started to pull out out of his hands. Sam immediately reached for a whipped cream pie on the table behind him. "I Kermit the Frog, ask you the undersigned, the members of the Muppet Theater troupe…this isn't Henson's will!" Golderman shouted.

"Nope, and neither is this!" Sam threw the pie in Golderman's face, then landed a haymaker on the magnate's jaw that sent him sprawling. "All right, admit it Freddie, you killed Bitterman!" he snapped, hauling him up against the wall.

"Aha, just as I suspected!" without any warning, Sherlock Hemlock popped out of the closet, holding his magnifying glass high, "I was so obvious that it was…!"

"AH, STAY OUT OF THIS!" both Sam and Golderman picked Hemlock up and tossed him out the window. "Nice work," Sam shook Golderman's hand, then immediately grew hostile again. "So was anyone else in on it besides you, Freddie?" he growled.

"Who," Golderman gasped.

"Who?"

"And Watt."

"I'm not asking you what, Golderman, I'm asking you who!"

"I just told you who, Klubb, it was Who!"

"I'm asking YOU that!"

"And I'm TELLING you that!"

"What?"

"Yes, he was in on it too. Weir too."

"I'm asking WHO, Golderman, not WHAT and WHERE!"

"I know! I told you, Who was in on it, it's as simple as that!"

Sam let out an aggravated growl. "You're really angering me, Golderman!" he shouted at the executive, "Tell me who was involved with you killing Bitterman!"

"That's what I'm saying, Who was my accomplice!" Golderman cried. Before Sam could argue the point further, he added, "But you can't pin me with murder, because Bitterman isn't dead!"

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped.

"Yeah, like I said, Watt was involved too," Golderman said, "Bitterman faked her death. She wants to make sure Muppetville ends up all hers, well, hers and…"

Just then Sam noticed the reflection of a gun in the awards case against the wall. He hit the deck seconds before a spray of bullets filled the room. When it stopped, he looked up and saw that Golderman wasn't going to be able to tell him anything else—or tell anyone anything else, for that matter. The detective ran to the window. From his viewpoint, he saw Miss Piggy running down the alley. Immediately a wave of fear for Kermit's safety swept him. He barreled back downstairs and looked all over the lot. To his horror, there was no sign of Kermit. Hearing the sound of an engine starting, he jumped in his car and sped off after the impossible-to-lose pink sedan that he knew was Piggy's. He followed at a discreet distance.

Until, that is, Piggy turned toward the tunnel that led straight to Muppetville. Sam abruptly slammed on the brakes and let her get away. He had been too scared to go back to Muppetvile ever since his family had been killed. And there was no telling if he'd run into…it. One thing was for sure; he'd need better ammo on the other side of the tunnel. He tossed his gun aside and hefted one that fired Muppet bullets. As much as he would have liked to run a field test, he didn't want to let Piggy get away. Muppet gun in hand, he floored it through the tunnel. The large flat at the far end slowly grew larger and larger in the windshield, until it rose up when he was a few feet from it. He was in the middle of an abstract landscape, on which dozens of Muppets of all shapes and sizes were merrily dancing their cares away to the tune of The Muppet Show theme. Sam couldn't help watching the strange show around him, which was the primary reason he abruptly crashed into a saloon. Shaking himself off, he climbed out of the car to find himself face to face with Sam the Eagle. "You weirdo!" the eagle condemned him, "You've caused massive structural damage to this wonderful establishment! What have you to say for yourself?"

"Have you seen Miss Piggy?" Sam asked Sam.

"She lives in the apartment complex across the street, " piped up Baskerville from a nearby table where he was playing poker with Muppy and the Storyteller's dog.

"Thanks," Sam called to him and ran out the door, leaving the Muppet with his name glaring after him. "Hey, come back here and clean this mess up, you immoral weirdo!" the eagle shouted after him.

The detective paid no attention. He threaded his way through crowds of Muppets on the street and glanced up at the apartment across the street. Sure enough, the silhouette of a porcine figure could be made out on the topmost floor. "Yes," Sam said to himself. He barreled across the street and into the apartment. Pressing the button for the elevator, he rocked on his heels waiting for it to come down. After an improbable five-minute wait, the doors opened, revealing the Count at the controls. "Welcome aboard sir," he greeted the detective, "Which floor?"

"Top floor, and make it snappy," Sam pushed his way inside.

"Ah, wonderful, now I can count every floor!" the Count exclaimed. He closed the doors and threw the switch. Sam was flattened almost literally against the floor by the incredible gravitational forces, leaving him with little else to do but listen to the Count rapidly count the number of floors to the top of building. Finally the elevator lurched to a stop as the vampire shouted out, "One hundred and thirty-seven, one hundred and thirty seven floors, ah hah hah!"

Sam staggered out the elevator doors as the thunder echoed. He hoped this wouldn't have set Piggy off as to his presence. He strode down the hall to the door at the end and looked inside. A pig was visible inside. "Gotcha," he whispered. He drew his Muppet gun and fired at the lock. A beaver-like bullet zoomed toward it and bit a huge hole in it. Sam kicked the now unlocked door in. "Give it up Piggy!" he shouted.

But it wasn't Miss Piggy inside after all. It was a large, fat, ugly female pig. "Oh sweet mystery of life, at last I've found you!" she exclaimed at the sight of him and charged wildly at him. Repulsed, Sam ran as fast as he could toward the emergency exit…

Only to find once he was on the other side of the door that there was nothing beneath his feet, and he was at least a thousand feet off the ground. He fell screaming about twenty stories before grabbing hold of the flagpole. Little Bird was perched on it. "Don't tell me you fell for that one, Detective Klubb?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Sam reluctantly nodded, "And let me tell you, it sure was no blast."

"Did somebody say blast?" Crazy Harry popped out a window, detonator in hand.

"NNOOOOOOOO!" Sam cried at him, but to no avail. Crazy Harry pressed down on the plunger, blowing Sam back into the air and into his freefall again.

No sooner had he started falling again, though, then exciting music started playing from seemingly nowhere. "It looks like it's time for another edition of our favorite new game show, Stop My Freefall!" announced an unseen announcer, "And now, here's our host, Guy Smiley!"

Guy Smiley flew into view on a jetpack. A cameraman with a parachute soon followed. "And welcome to our show!" Smiley announced into the camera, "Today's contestant is Detective Sam Klubb, whose hobbies include watching noir videos and taking long hot showers. Detective Klubb, are you familiar with our game?"

"No, just get me…!" Sam shouted at him.

"Well then, here are the rules," Smiley pulled out a quartet of parachutes, "Only one of these is an actual parachute. It's your job to pick the correct one before time runs out, so what will it be, Number One, Number Two, Number Three, or Number Four?"

"Three, no, two, no, four, no, two, no,…oh, just give me then all!" Sam grabbed all four parachutes out of Smiley's hands. "Hey, you can't choose them all!" Smiley protested, "That's cheating!"

"It's better than dying!" Sam started pulling all the ripcords. He was in the process of yanking the right one when he roughly hit the street rear first at almost five hundred miles an hour. The parachute superfluously opened after the fact. Fortunately, something had broken Sam's fall. Unfortunately, it had been Wendell the porcupine. "YEEEEOOOOOWWW!" Sam yelled, hopping around in pain due to the several dozen quills now lodged in his rear end.

"Watch where you're falling, buddy!" Wendell shouted at him, dusting himself off and walking away. Smiley jetted to a stop on the pavement next to Sam as he pulled the quills out of his rear. "Well, I guess we'd have to qualify this as a draw," the host announced to his public, so till next time, the is Guy Smiley for Stop My Freefall saying, watch where you step."

He waved for the cameraman to stop tape, then walked off muttering, "I hate these Bitterman Entertainment Group reality programs, Arnie."

"Come to Mommy, big boy!" came the shout of the ugly female pig from up the street. Sam saw her charging right toward him. Thinking quickly, he waited until she was right on top of him, then pulled the manhole off the street in front of him. She fell down it still giggling wildly until she was cut off by a loud splash. Sam dropped the cover back into place. "Gets them every time," he said to himself.

He caught a glimpse of something pink disappearing down the alley across the street. Drawing his Muppet gun, he stalked down the alley after it. "Miss Piggy?" he called out, waving it from side to side, "I know you're in here! You can't hide from me!"

"Klubb, freeze!" came Miss Piggy's voice behind him, followed by the click of a gun. Sam turned ever so slowly toward her, unaware of another figure behind him with a gun also pointed at him.


	11. Chapter 11

Without warning, Miss Piggy fired several times. Sam instinctively dropped to the ground. "Drop it or you're sliced ham!" he warned her.

"How? With an empty gun?" Miss Piggy chided him, "Anyway, I did just save your life."

"Empty?" Sam glanced at the side of the gun. The gauge there was similar to that of a gas tank's, and was firmly on the E. He spun around to see a gun lying on the ground behind him. "So it wasn't you who shot Golderman?" he asked Piggy.

"Of course not!" Piggy snapped, "It was Doc Hopper."

"Doc Hopper?" Sam frowned in surprise, "Isn't it a little late to introduce him into this story?"

"Well he was working for Jareth," Piggy told him, "I tried to stop him from killing Golderman, but I got there just a little too late. Well, at any rate, if we can circle around, maybe we could stop Hopper."

She half-dragged Sam back out onto the street. "You're really in the mood to stop them," Sam commented.

"It's worse than you think, Sammy," Piggy said, "I overheard Jareth say something about completely exterminating every Muppet in…oh no, where's Kermie?"

The trunk of her car was wide open. Piggy searched through it thoroughly. "I locked it good and tight," she mused.

"So you took him?" Sam inquired.

"It was for Kermie's benefit, just so no one else could get to him first," Piggy explained, "I would never let anything happen to the frog of my life, my love, my dreamboat, my…"

"Uh, I think we've got company," Sam spoke up, noticing a spear whiz by his face. Low laughter filled the air around them as dozens of goblins started crawling out of the darkness and advancing toward them. "Surrender!" a brownish one with a beard ordered.

"Surrender this: HIIIIIIIYAAAAA, HIIIITAAAYYYY!" Piggy charged at the goblins and began delivering wicked karate chops to them. Sam attempted to do the same, but was swarmed upon by goblins who gave him more left hooks than he could count. A hard blow over the head with a club sent him sprawling to the ground. Dazed, he could see a large goblin walking forward with an axe. An image of Piggy appeared in front of him. "Don't go," she pleaded, "The Oracle promised I would fall in love with the one who would save the frog of my dreams from certain death."

"Really?" Sam had to know.

"Of course not, dummy!" Piggy shouted at him, "I'm trying to get you motivated! Now get up and fight like a real man!"

She kicked him in the shin to better stimulate him. Invigorated, Sam rose up and decked the goblins in quick succession. Seeing a squad on the sidewalk throwing spears at him, he leaped up in the air…and found he had an amazing control over the space around him. He mentally caused the spears to zip by him harmlessly. Then he picked up a metal pole that just happened to be lying nearby, planted it on the ground, and spun around in circles, kicking the goblins away. Then he tossed it into the crowd, knocking several goblins senseless.

None of which seemed to have any outcome on their predicament, as they were still surrounded by too many goblins to count, and they were closing in for the kill. Just then there was the roar of a nearly shot engine. A broken-down taxi labeled OSCAR'S CAB COMPANY sputtered rapidly toward them, bowling goblins over like tenpins. "Going somewhere, mac?" asked Oscar behind the wheel. Next to him sat a nervous-looking Telly wearing a badge identifying him as a Junior Assistant Apprentice Cabdriver Trainee.

"Anywhere that's away from here, Oscar," Sam could hear a siren approaching in the distance. The Riverbottom Gang's jalopy was barreling up the road toward them. With a loud wheezing of its engine, Oscar's taxi sputtered out of the way just before Chuck could ram into them. A thick cloud of smoke drifted from the tailpipe, making everyone cough. "You should really get that fixed, Oscar," Sam told the grouch."

"I like it broken like that," Oscar said defensively, "Now hold on tight back there, because the brakes don't work either."

"Big surprise," Sam muttered to himself. He turned to Piggy and said, "So, tell me everything you know about all this. Golderman said Bitterman faked her death."

"Exactly," Piggy nodded, "She and Jareth have been in love for a while—I wish I could give you the lurid details. They both want their grubby hands on Muppetville. Bitterman was going to burn Jim's will—she'd get possession of Muppetville if it doesn't turn up by midnight tonight--but someone in her company stole it off her and faxed it to me—or so they told me. Turns out they just gave me a blank piece of paper."

"That's terrible," Telly moaned, "Bitterman hates us all, and if she and Jareth team up, we're all done for! We'll be forced to live as transients!"

"It'll be worse than that, Big Eyes," Piggy told the monster, "Jareth's got some big extermination plan, the informant said. Operation End the Magic or something like that. I don't know about you, but I'm flying to my summer home in Marseilles until this blows over. Now if I could just find Kermie, my exile will be sweet and…"

"Oscar watch out!" Sam and Telly shouted simultaneously. They had just exited the tunnel back to the real world, only to find a load of tacks thrown all over the road. Oscar ran right over them, spun out of control as the tires rapidly deflated, and crashed spectacularly into a signpost. With no seatbelts, he and Telly were flung into a pair of garbage cans around the curb. Sam and Piggy tumbled over the taxi's front bumper. Footsteps approached. "Enjoy your little trip, I presume?" came Doc Hopper's voice.

"So you shot Golderman, Doc!" Sam leapt to his feet, only to back off when he saw the restaurateur had a gun in hand. "Yes, I did," Hopper told him, "But unfortunately for you, Detective, you'll be the only one who finds that out, am I right boss, boss?"

From behind a tree came Jareth and a very much alive Rachel Bitterman. "Well, well, I guess death didn't suit you too well, huh Rachel?" Sam told off the industrialist.

"It was part of a perfect plan, one my sugar bear Jareth thought up, am I right lovey dovey?" Bitterman gave the Goblin King a series of rather disgusting kisses that made Sam and Piggy retch. With the wail of its siren, the Riverbottom Gang's jalopy roared out of the tunnel and screeched to a halt across the road from them. "Well it's about time you showed up!" Jareth berated his enforcers, "I was starting wonder why I was paying you anything at all. No matter, put these two under arrest and take them to my dimension. They're going to enjoy watching my grand plan for Muppetville unfold."

"OUR plan for Muppetville, sweetums, remember?" Bitterman corrected him with another kiss. If Jareth shared her affection for him, he didn't want to outwardly show it. "Shall we drive to my place and break out the martinis?" he asked her as they followed Doc Hopper to his car.

"Shouldn't we just kill them first?" Hopper interceded, "They know too much."

"They won't be going anywhere," Jareth told him, "Not with the security features we have at my castle. And anyone who wants to get in will have to navigate the labyrinth in under…" he checked Bitterman's watch, "…three hours. Not even an expert can do that."

"Meaning no one can stop us now," Bitterman could barely contain her delight. They hopped in and drove off after the Riverbottom Gang, who had Sam and Piggy at gunpoint in the backseat.

Once they were gone, Oscar and Telly, whom they'd inexplicably forgotten about, popped out of their trashcans. "This is awful, Oscar!" the latter told the former, "We've got to go do something! We've got to call the police! What's the number for 9-1-1?"

Oscar shook his head and didn't answer the very obvious question. He was, however, concerned for one of the few times in his life. "You go look for a phone, Telly," he told his junior assistant apprentice trainee, "I'll stay hear and flag down the next car that comes out."

"Right Oscar, I'll be back as soon as I can," Telly ran off up the street. Oscar picked up some of the trash from the can on the left of the one he was in and laid it down around him. "Might as well make myself comfortable while I'm waiting," he said to himself, reclining back in the can.


	12. Chapter 12

"Hoo hoo, stop, cut it out, that tickles!" Sam had strain to avoid breaking down into laughter. The Snake was slithering around under his clothes, "frisking" him. They were standing in the middle of large hall in the middle of Jareth's castle, with the stairway maze all around them. Both Doc Hopper and Wander McMooch had he and Miss Piggy at gunpoint, and goblins milled around all over the room, armed to the teeth. Escape seemed rather unlikely.

"Do you see Henson's will or not?" Jareth shouted impatiently from an apparently legitimate staircase along the roof of the hall.

"Nope," the Snake popped his head out from Sam's shirt, "No ssssssssign of the will on Klubb, bosssssss. All he'ssssss got issss thissssss contract for the other Muppetssssssssss."

"Search the pig!" the Goblin King pointed at Piggy.

"I'll handle this," the Weasel stepped toward Piggy.

"HIIIIIIIYYYYAAAAA!" Piggy karate chopped him into the wall. Interesting," Sam confided in her, "Maybe it's just me, but I thought you'd do something a little more, well, racy."

"I probably would, but the brass would never permit it," Piggy told him.

"Uh, I think she's yours, Chuck," the Weasel dazedly told the head of the Riverbottom Gang.

"Never mind!" Bitterman pushed her way past the Weasel, "I doubt Henson's will's going to show by midnight, when Muppetville becomes legally mine."

"Legally ours, angel cakes," Jareth swooped down and put an arm around her. The two of them eyed each other with goofy love expressions. "I may throw up," Sam confided in Piggy.

A loud clang rang out from the wall. The Lizard had been chopping away at it for the last half hour or so, aided by light from a lamp the Pop-Eyed Catfish was holding up in its mouth. "Careful you fool!" Jareth berated the reptile, "We need to just take out the weak spot so that we can better break the spell!"

"What weak spot?" Sam asked, hoping Jareth would succumb to the usual temptation of villains and relate the whole plot to them.

"Henson never trusted me," Jareth seemed all the willing to oblige him, "He put up this magical force field to keep me away from the Muppets. Fortunately, the spell runs out if a specific weak spot is breeched, and I've figured out its location. Then I'll be able to come right in and enact Operation End the Magic."

"So that's what this whole thing is about? So you and Bitterman could get your hands on Muppetville?" Sam inquired. He liked them even less now.

"You think it's just the two of us?" Bitterman asked him, a strange edge to her voice, "And you called yourself a great detective? Darling, why don't we show them who else is a limited partner in Bitterman International, Muppetville Development Division."

"With pleasure," Jareth waved his hand up at the ceiling, which immediately became transparent, revealing a tier of seats. "I don't believe it," Sam was shocked at some of the people he saw up there, "The Skeksis? Sam and Side Sleaze? Nicky Holliday? THE GORGS? Why, Pa?"

"The universe is undergoing change," Pa Gorg said down over the loudspeaker, "I've got a throne to protect."

"Still delusional," Sam shook his head. Then he noticed the last person up there. "Miss Finch?"

"It was an offer I couldn't refuse, Klubb," the social worker told him, "Do you have any idea how hard it is working on a civil servant's salary? Now I'm set for life."

"As you can see, there are many willing to assist us in this venture of ours," Jareth told Sam, "And I wouldn't think of rescue, Klubb. Not just my legions, but also Garthim, crystal bats, demons, trolls, and other creatures of the night heavily guard this castle. There will be no one to stop us this time."

* * *

A bus exited the tunnel from Muppetville, causing Oscar to shift around in his can. A tall figure wearing a low hat and dark glasses stepped off at the bus stop across the street. "Oscar?" came Kermit's voice from underneath the huge trench coat the figure was wearing, "What happened here?"

"What does it look like, I had an accident!" Oscar growled, hauling himself out of the can.

"Oscar!" Telly came running back up the road, "I forgot the number for the police."

"You what?" Kermit threw aside his disguise, revealing he'd been wearing stilts, "Will somebody please tell me what's going on here?"

"Jareth took Detective…" Telly started to say, but it was then that a familiar Studebaker zoomed around the corner and crashed into the trash cans. "Fozzie, I told you to fix those worn-out brakes!" Gonzo shouted.

"I did," Fozzie admitted, "That's why I haven't got any."

"Anyway," Oscar picked up, "Jareth's going to basically kill all of us."

"He what?" Kermit strode over, jumping off the stilts.

"That's what Miss Piggy said before he grabbed her and Klubb," the grouch said, "Took them back to his castle."

"Good grief!" Kermit exclaimed. "This is serious! And what are you doing here?" he turned to his friends in the car, "I thought you were staying hiding? Detective Klubb told you to stay at the Sinclairs."

"It was too boring," Rizzo protested, "Besides you were gone too long. What happened?"

"It's a long story," Kermit said, "Right now we've got to get to Jareth's castle."

"But that's in a completely different dimension, Kermit," Telly pointed out as they ran up the road after the frog, "I don't even know where the entrance is."

"I do," Kermit told him, "Jim gave me an exact description of how to get in to the goblin world, and how to circumvent the labyrinth. "Hey, buddy, hold up!"

A steamroller had been driving up the road. "Stop!" Kermit jumped in front of it and waved his flippers. "Yeah, whatdya want, mac?" the driver shouted at him.

"Take us to the Creature Shop building," Kermit asked him.

"What do I look like, a subway?" the driver growled, impatient, "I've got a busy shift, frog!"

"A shift you're not finishing!" Oscar threw the driver out of the cab. "All aboard," the grouch called out. Everyone climbed up. "Floor it Oscar," Kermit instructed him, "We've only got till midnight if everything I've been told is right."

Oscar hit the gas, and the steamroller took off…i-n-c-r-e-d-i-b-l-y s-l-o-w-l-y. "Well, if nothing else, we might break a world record for slowness before we all die horrible deaths," Gonzo rationalized.

"I think I can see a snail moving quicker than this," Rizzo looked over the side.

"Turn left here," Kermit directed Oscar. He prayed they'd be in time.

* * *

"There we go, clear through," the Lizard announced from the wall. He managed to crack a hole through it, from which the sound of laughter could be heard wafting through.

"Very good," Jareth lauded him, "We've now ruined Henson's defenses. We can now proceed with the operation."

He strode over to a large steel framework that was hiding a very large object of some kind. "Is it ready, Professor?" he asked.

"Just about, keep your shirt on," came a strident Jewish voice from inside the metallic frame.

"You have ten seconds, Professor," Jareth warned him.

"OK, I guess we can cut a corner or two here, just tighten this rivets here; good, all done," Professor Max Krassman climbed out from behind the scaffolding. "You too?" Sam was amazed at who was among the bad guys for this caper.

"It's a significant raise over my usual stuff, and since Bitterman International is a large patron of the Mad Scientists Union Local 839, which I'm shop steward of, why not" Krassman said, mopping the sweat form his brow. "Well your highness, it's all ready to roll," he told Jareth.

"Good," Jareth patted the mad scientist on the shoulder. "You see, Detective Klubb, this little creation," he gestured up at the scaffolding, "marks my retirement from the Muppetville judiciary. I'm retiring to take a white collar position with Bitterman International, once the massive rezoning and revitalization of Muppetville is complete."

"Company COO, am I right?" Sam stepped forward, but McMooch gestured with his gun to go back.

"You catch on quickly, detective; yes, I'll be my beloved Rachel's right hand man," Jareth gave his love's arm a series of disgusting kisses. "Seriously, what can you two see in each other?" Piggy had to know.

"He's rich and powerful," Bitterman emitted moans of delight from the kisses, "Just the way I like the men in my life."

"Boy, and I thought your tries for Kermit were weird," Sam asided to Piggy.

"WHAT?" offended, Piggy kicked him, "Don't you dare talk about the love of my life that way! When he shows up, he'll prove to you and everyone we belong together!"

"If he shows up," Doc Hopper sneered, "And if he does, I'll cook him into a frog leg special."

* * *

Kermit was in fact at that moment pulling up in front of the Creature Shop. "Oscar, you know where Jerome Crystal lives," he told the grouch as he hopped down to the street, "He's been working on a special device over the last few months that can get people through the labyrinth quickly without cheating. Tell him I need it, then tell him to call everybody; we're going to need serious help on this one. I'll leave the device you need outside the entrance; once you get it open you should be able to get everyone through. As for me, I'm going in."

He hefted a popgun. It wasn't the weapon he really wanted, but it would have to do. "Come on, the portal's this way," he told the others as the steamroller slowly inched off.

"Shouldn't we go in wearing disguises?" Fozzie asked, "Maybe they'll just let us through if we pose as door to door salesmen."

"I don't think so, Fozzie," Kermit reached the back wall of the shop and tapped it with a talisman he'd been holding. A magical hole opened up for the to slide through. They were now standing outside the gate to the labyrinth. Thunder was rumbling far in the distance. "There's no way we could get through it in time," Gonzo lamented.

"Through it, no, but under it, I think we can," Kermit was on his hands and knees, "Jim said there was a secret tunnel of some kind that leads directly into Jareth's castle. If we can find it, we might still have a chance. The only thing he didn't tell me was how to open it."

"Well there's nothing here, Kermit," Rizzo shook his head, "Unless the opening's disguised to look like solid ground."

"I don't see anything either," Gonzo admitted, feeling everywhere, "How about you, Fozzie?"

"Nothing except this cute little fountain here," Fozzie innocently touched the water's spout. Instantly, the fountain made a flushing noise and sank underground—and the entire ground began swirling like a whirlpool. "Uh, I think I found the entrance, Kermit," Fozzie admitted after the fact.

"FOZZZZZZZIEEEEEE!" Kermit shrieked as they were all sucked underground and sent zooming through an underground aqueduct at close to a hundred miles an hour.

* * *

"So what does this big plan of yours to kill every Muppet entail, Jareth?" Sam asked him, daring to walk toward him again before Hopper and McMooch grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back.

"Let me give you a hint, Detective," Jareth reached through the scaffolding and pulled out a hose. He turned the nozzle and aimed it at the wall, which the dark-colored liquid proceeded to burn a hole in, "Can you guess what I've got here?"

"SAAAAAAAAUUUNNAAAAAAAAA!" Piggy screamed in an over-the-top voice.

"Exactly you pathetic swine!" Jareth crowed triumphantly, "And enough of it to complete wash Muppetville off the map!"

He fired blasts of energy from his hands that completely destroyed the scaffolding. Behind it was an ominous multi-tiered vehicle with water cannons everywhere, most notably on the top of the crane gantry above the driver's cab. "It's the ultimate vehicle of mass destruction," the Goblin King said with an edge of superiority, "Tell them the specifics, Professor."

"With pleasure, your highness," Krassman stepped forward, "Well people, this baby can go from zero to a hundred and forty in five hundred seconds," the mad scientist said, waving his arms around like he was a game show host, "It can seat fifty comfortably and holds a capacity of ten million gallons of sauna," he paused and nodded toward the truck, which the Riverbottom Gang and several goblins were filling up with extra sauna. "I've designed it with one main gun plus eighteen ancillary guns, which pump sauna through at approximately 320 psi. Enough to kill on contact, let me tell you. With tracked wheels, this baby can handle any terrain, and it would take a kill shot unlike any other to stop it. It also features dual side air conditioning, AM/FM stereo, power windows, cruise control, scotch guard, reclining seats, and California emission, the perfect…"

"They get the point, thank you Professor," Jareth interrupted Krassman. "As you can see, people," he told the investors seated in the balcony above, "Your generous donations have given us the ability to produce this weapon against Muppetry. You will tonight see it live on the screens before you."

"Oh boy!" Junior Gorg seemed blissfully unaware of what carnage was about to unfold, "We get to see the Fwaggles die live! I love reality TV, Ma, Pa."

"Junior, don't you realize the ramifications this will have!" Sam protested at the Gorg, "If you wipe out the Fraggles, you'll destroy yourselves! All things affect each other; Henson knew that firsthand!"

"Henson was a fool," Bitterman snorted, "All that matters now is getting ahead in life, not that stupid goody goody do-everything-you-can-for-your-fellow-man rubbish he tried to teach. Well, once we destroy Muppetville, I'll build my new corporate tower there, and together my honey bunny and I will take over the world, won't we?"

She cuddled up against Jareth. "Indeed," the Goblin King said, ignoring her this time, "For you see, Detective Klubb, destroying the Muppets is only the first step to world domination. Once Bitterman International becomes the leading company in all world products, I'll enslave the population."

"You don't have the powers for that, big boy," Piggy told him off.

"Oh yes I do, you wasted-off mound of bacon," Jareth snorted, "For the last few months, as part of their agreement in our pact, the Skeksis have allowed me to siphon power from the Dark Crystal. I now have abilities even you won't believe. In the long run, I've contracted Professor Krassman to develop a form of sauna that will kill humans as well as Muppets. Every grown-up in the world who refuses to abide by our rules will die by it, while I'll have the pleasure of turning their children into goblins to join my legions."

"All of the precious little children under twelve that the frog claims to like so much will be turned into goblins," Bitterman elaborated on the plot, "Those between twelve and eighteen will be forced to join Bitterman International and work the rest of their lives in cubicles earning minimum wage. Maybe if some of them are lucky, they'll join the board of directors in…"

"Do you here something?" Doc Hopper interrupted. Moments later, the floor exploded in a flash of water. Everyone ran for cover. Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, and Rizzo all somehow landed on their feet. "OK, everyone freeze!" the frog yelled, waving the popgun around, "I want to see weapons on the ground now or else….!"

"Oh Kermit! My little tadpole of my dreams! I know you'd come to rescue me!" Piggy threw herself on Kermit and all but killed him with a violent hug.

"Uh, yeah, great, Piggy, now could you stop choking me so I could stop the bad guys?" Kermit gasped for air.

"My love, my passion, I knew it would be fulfilled!" Piggy continued strangling him anyway, "I knew years of work would pay off, and you'd see the fact that we were just made for each other!"

"I'm going to be sick," McMooch groaned.

"And you'll be full of holes if you don't drop that gun!" Gonzo shouted at him, pointing something at McMooch through his shirt that he hoped looked like a gun. "You too!" he shouted at the Riverbottom Gang as they charged toward them, "Reach for the sky or your boss here gets it!"

"You fools!" Jareth berated his deputies as they threw down their weapons, "That's not a gun! That's his finger!"

"It is too a gun!" Gonzo told him, "And stay out of this!"

"You stupid Muppets!" Bitterman roared, "Do you really think coming in here like this is going to make any difference? We're still going to destroy Muppetville anyway, and there's nothing you can do that will stop us!"

"Well let me tell you something Bitterman!" Kermit pried himself away from Piggy and advanced toward the industrialist, his popgun held high, "For years people like you have treated us like dirt! You've called us one-dimensional, edited our shows, and done everything in your power to make us look bad! Well now we're really, really mad, and we're not going to take it anymore!"

"Yeah, everyone join in!" Fozzie leaned out the castle window and called out into the labyrinth, "Everyone repeat after us: we're really, really mad, and we're not going to take it anymore!"

"Fozzie, please!" Kermit shouted at him. The frog failed to notice a goblin inching along the rafters toward a conveniently placed kitchen sink that was directly over him. "As I was saying—and you stay right there, Jareth!" he pointed the popgun at the Goblin King, "Jim always said it only took a small number of determined people to make a change for the better, Bitterman, and even without his will, we're not going to let you take over Muppetville and do as you please with it!"

"And what makes you so sure you're going to win, frog?" Bitterman's eyes glanced up at the goblin starting to push the sink off the rafters.

"Because you've thrown everything but the kitchen sink at us, and look, we're still going!" Kermit shouted seconds before the kitchen sink hit him right in the skull. He shuddered and keeled forward. "Kermit!" Piggy ran to him and started choking him with passion all over again, "Say something Kermie!"

"Anyone catch that Bludger's license plate?" Kermit said slurrily.

"All right, say something intelligent!" Piggy pressed.

"I've had enough," Jareth stepped in, "This little rescue is over."

"Not if we have anything to say!" Rizzo charged toward him.

"But you don't," Jareth fired blasts of energy from his hands that immobilized the rat. Two more blasts froze up Gonzo and Fozzie. "Well, don't just stand there looking dumber than you are!" he snapped at the Riverbottom Gang, "Fetch some irons. We'll be sending the frog and pig out together, just the way they always wanted."


	13. Chapter 13

"There we go, like a glove," Oscar said, pulling into a parking space. He didn't seem to care that he'd parked the steamroller on the rear bumper of the car directly in front of them.

"Boy, I hope they have good insurance," Telly fretted, "And I hope this is the right house."

He and Oscar walked up to the door and knocked on it. A loud barking broke out. "Calm yourself, Sprocket; it's probably nothing to worry about," Doc could be heard saying to his pet. The inventor opened his door. "Well, I haven't seen you two in this neighborhood in a long time," he greeted the grouch and the monster.

"Yeah, so let's just skip the formalities," Oscar pushed his way inside. "Don't even think about it," he warned Sprocket before the dog could lick him.

"Aren't you running your taxi service tonight, Oscar?" Luis was in the house, as was Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker.

"I was, then I got dragged into this whole mess," Oscar told him.

"As I was saying, Luis, your toaster here seems to have a short," Bunsen wasn't really paying attention, "I believe I can reenergize it with a strong jolt. Hold this wire, Beaker."

He handed his assistant a live wire, then threw a switch, which violently electrocuted Beaker. The toaster remained broken. "Anyway, Doc, Lord Jareth's going to try and kill all us Muppets," Telly told the inventor, "Kermit said you had an invention that could beat the labyrinth?"

A smile crossed Doc's face. "Well, I thought I'd never get a chance to use that thing," he exclaimed, "It's right around back in the tool shed. Come on Sprocket, let's get it ready."

They ran around outside to the shed. Inside was a miniature helicopter loaded with water cannons and what looked like a cheap yet sophisticated global positioning system. "It looks like a piece of junk," Oscar commented, "Can I have it after we're done?"

"I think we're going to need a lot more of them," Telly said nervously, "I know there's a lot of stuff in the labyrinth that can kill you."

"I think my cloning ray can even the odds a bit," Bunsen suggested, "I believe it's in working order now, am I correct, Beaker?"

"Meep meep meep," Beaker was still dazed from the electrocution he'd received.

"I'll call everyone I know," Luis pulled out his cell phone.

Telly ran back inside and crouched down next to the hole in the wall. "Hey you Fraggles!" he cried into it, "Get together, we're going to need your help!"

"Yeah, nothing like getting everyone together to take the law into our own hands," Oscar muttered, "If we go to jail, I hope it's a nice, dirty cell."

* * *

"You can't do this to us!" Fozzie was protesting. He, Gonzo, and Rizzo were being locked in cages high above the hall, "I'll call the Humane Society! And the ACLU!"

"What Humane Society don't know won't kill them," Chuck shrugged, locking the cage door behind Fozzie.

"You're a disgrace to our race," Fozzie told the other bear.

"A shame to your name," Gonzo added.

"A blot to your lot," the Weasel unexpectedly added. Chuck gave him a strange look.

"Are they secured yet?" Jareth yelled up impatiently at them, "I want no interference from them anymore."

"All done, Lord Jareth," Chuck and the others climbed down the ladders to the floor. There was a clattering as a chain and hook slowly inched down toward the floor where Kermit and Piggy, now chained together, were being held by numerous goblins. "Heads up down there," called Sid Sleaze, who was operating the winch that was lowering it.

"They can see it coming, dummy; they're stupid but they're not blind!" his brother berated him.

"All right, don't start acting like Bill Needle again!" Sid protested at him.

"All right, put the frog and pig up on it," Jareth instructed his minions. Kermit and Piggy were locked into placed and jerked up in the air. "Oh Kermit, at least we get to go out together," Piggy pronounced stoically, "This is the way I always dreamed of dying; with you inseparably at my side. Have you ever thought of this?"

"No Piggy, I can't say I have," Kermit said. He was trying to think of a way out of this mess.

"All right, everyone who's taking our creation for its inaugural ride, mount up," Jareth ordered, "We destroy Muppetville in ten minutes."

"Shotgun!" Chuck shouted, rushing for the cab. He took the passenger seat next to the Weasel. Above them, the huge black goblin that had led the efforts to put the horse's head on Sam earlier in the day climbed up the ladder to the main cannon, which the Snake was already wrapped around. "I'll aim, you fire," he told the goblin.

"Works for me," the huge black goblin dumped the Pop-Eyed Catfish into a long cylindrical water tank just underneath the walkway. Meanwhile, the Lizard climbed into what looked like the central control system for the Saunamobile and started throwing switches that turned on a slew of lights that seemed to serve no real purpose other than to look visually impressive. About forty other goblins or so took positions all over the Saunamobile at sauna guns and other controls. The rest of the goblins, heavily armed, took positions on either side of the Saunamobile at least seven rows deep.

Jareth walked up to Sam. "Well, it's all over Detective," he said with an edge of confidence, "Don't worry, you'll be the last to go. Once I finish saunaing every Muppet, I'll turn you over to the Skeksis and let them take your essential energy. You two," he gave Doc Hopper and Wander McMooch a stern look, "make sure he doesn't try anything funny."

It was then that something clicked in Sam's mind. "Don't try anything funny," he repeated softly.

"That's what you won't be doing," McMooch said as Jareth walked up one of the gravity-defying staircases arm-in-arm with Bitterman. Sam took a look around the hall. There were a lot of possible props for him to use in the plan that was now formulating for him.

"Everyone set?" Krassman was a whirling ball of energy as he skipped around the Saunamobile, examining the finer points of his creation one last time.

"Looks good to me," Chuck called from the cab.

"OK Horseshack, start that engine!" Krassman directed the Weasel. Moments later the Saunamobile slowly sputtered to life, with the engine choking a couple of times before catching. The goblins on it started throwing even more switches, some of which seemed to also serve no purpose. With the Snake looking right down the sight of the main gun, it was trained on a nervous Kermit and Piggy. Sam, however, took note that the Weasel wasn't even moving the Saunamobile forward, just pointlessly revving the engine over and over again. He had the time to make a move. "Boy, you must be really desperate for laughs to find this funny," he said out loud to Hopper.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the restaurateur growled.

"That I'm doing this," without warning, Sam eye-poked him and cartwheeled over to a victrola in the corner. He switched it on and put the needle to the record. Wacky music poured out from it. "OOOh, you may say I'm crazy, and you may be right, but you'll soon learn I've not yet begun to fight!" Sam belted out the lyrics off-key. He pretended to slip on a patch of water and tumbled into the wall. Several of the goblins lined up along the Saunamobile started laughing hard. Seeing he'd made a point, Sam Russian-danced over to the cab. "You know how I know my uncle's a world-class decathlete?" he asked Chuck.

"Uh, I don't know," Chuck admitted.

"I've watched him; he's fast asleep," Sam joked. Once he knew Chuck was paralyzed with laughter, he swiped the cage keys off the bear, then ran over to the sofa directly underneath the cages. He jumped on it and bounced high up in the air, taking the opportunity on each bound to unlock each cage. "You know how to be loopy," he told Fozzie, Gonzo, and Rizzo as they landed safely back on the ground, "Just do your stuff. We'll take them all out joke by joke."

"Just the way I like it," Fozzie ran up to one of the lead goblins along the Saunamobile's starboard side. "You know, my sister-in-law is so dumb, she thinks Marxism was devised by Harpo," he told it. When this failed to make the goblin laugh, he shoved a cigar into its mouth and lit it, causing it to explode in the goblin's face. Its associates cracked up at its predicament.

"Have they completely lost it?" Piggy asked Kermit up on the hook.

"Nope," Kermit was beaming, "They're doing exactly what they need to do. And there's hope for Detective Klubb after all."

Sam, in fact, was at that moment subjecting himself to falling iron balls being thrown in the air by Gonzo landing on his head to induce the villains to laugh harder. . He did feel a tremendous amount of pain, but tried his best to shake it off. "Hey," he approached the nerve center of the Saunamobile and addressed the Lizard, "Why did the orange miss the bus?"

"Beats me," the Lizard shrugged.

"He ran out of juice," Sam told him. The Lizard cracked up and thumped his fists off the consoles, causing several gauges to switch into emergency settings. Several goblins in the immediate area were on the verge of completely losing it as well. Meanwhile, clutching a rubber chicken, Fozzie jumped up and down on the sofa until he was level with the main gun's walkway. "What's the difference between a moose and an ant?" he asked everyone up there.

"What?" bubbled the Pop-Eyed Catfish.

"A moose has antlers, but an ant rarely has mooselers; wokka wokka wokka!" Fozzie whacked the huge black goblin over the head with the rubber chicken. That proved to be enough for a goblin manning a nearby console; it keeled off the Saunamobile and went stiff. Its spirit winged its way to Heaven, playing an off-key tune on a clarinet. Several more goblins along the side of the vehicle were dying as well.

"Letter for Rizzo the rat," Gonzo walked around wearing a mailman's outfit. Seeing his friend, he asked, "Are you Rizzo?"

"That's me."

"Here's your letter," Gonzo pulled out a huge green letter B and handed it to Rizzo. With a loud choking laugh the Lizard fell off the Saunamobile and expired, his spirit playing the violin as it ascended. Above, the Pop-Eyed Catfish's spirit was leaving its body as well. The fish was fighting to stay alive for all it was worth, but ultimately lost and sank to the bottom of its tank, its ghost wearing a life preserver as it went to the sky. Goblins were dying of laughter everywhere, and Sam knew that as long as they kept up the manic energy, they'd be in great shape. It was then, though, that Doc Hopper jumped in his face. "Cut it out now!" he ordered.

"Hey Doc, you know what makes you look funny?" Sam asked him.

"I don't…" Hopper was cut off as a large piano fell on his head. "…care," he could be heard saying weakly underneath it. "That does," Fozzie commented from the ceiling, where he'd hoisted it up and dropped it. At the sight of Hopper's fate, nearly a dozen goblins fell dead. Inside the cab, the Weasel slumped forward on the gas pedal as he died, causing the Saunamobile to slowly lurch forward. Similarly, as the huge black goblin manning the main sauna cannon accidentally hit the start switch as he keeled dead off the walkway. "YIPE!" Kermit shrieked, kicking away from the stream of sauna now bearing down on them, "Somebody turn it the other way!"

Almost as if answering his prayers, the Snake grabbed a hold of the lever as it slipped off the cannon and pulled it forward, sending the sauna spray to the right. Moments later it lost its grip and fell onto one of the sauna brushes around the vehicle. As its spirit rose to the heavens, however (while blowing on a tuba), it wrapped its vapory tail around the lever and jerked it backwards. The spray began a slow trek back to where Kermit and Piggy were hanging. "Hey, clowns, let them expire!" the latter yelled down to everyone on the floor, "Stop this thing!"

"Uh," Sam saw the last goblin on the ground was dying. Thinking quickly, he grabbed hold of its spirit and took a free ride upwards. When he was level with the top of the Saunamobile, he let go and tumbled to the ground. He hauled himself back up and stumbled toward the controls.

When he was but a few feet from it, a large scaly hand and a furry paw grabbed him and dragged him back. "I don't think so!" McMooch scolded him. He and Chuck, who was trying and failing to keep the hysterics at bay, towered over the detective. "They go first, that's what Lord Jareth says."

"Say Wander, you know where I want to be?" Sam asked the big toad.

"Where?" Chuck asked between giggles.

"Right here," Sam slapped the large letter B Gonzo had brought out onto McMooch's chest. "Ha ha, it funny!" Chuck broke down into laughter.

"No it's not!" McMooch yelled at him. While their attention was broken, Sam ran to the cannon and spun it around at them. The blast of sauna caught McMooch and Chuck square in the chest and sent them flying backwards into a large vat of sauna behind them. Both of them expired in loud hisses.

"Boy that was close," Kermit breathed a large sigh of relief, "For a moment there I thought we were done for."

"Oh Kermie, you were a pillar of strength," Piggy lauded him. She leaned around to try and kiss him, although their positioning made this impossible.

"Just hang in there and I'll get you two…" Sam started to say, but then without warning Jareth materialized on the walkway in front of him. The Goblin King fired a blast of energy at the detective that sent him flailing to the floor. Before he could get up, Jareth's foot came down on his chest. "Krassman!" he barked to the scientist, "Drive! I'll take care of our enemy here."

"Gotcha chief," Krassman climbed into the cab of the Saunamobile, pushed the Weasel's body aside, and accelerated slowly toward the wall. "Always a thrill to take my own diabolical inventions for their opening spin," he said out loud.

Jareth waved his hand at the sauna cannon, which ever so slowly turned back around toward Kermit and Piggy. "Oh no you don't!" Sam took a swipe at him, but Jareth vanished into thin air. "Impressive, Detective, but boring," the Goblin King said dismissively, "Especially when you can't do this."

Immediately a large mace on the wall flew at Sam. He ducked it in time, but then was hit by a cannonball in the chest. More objects came flying at him, prompting him to dive behind the Saunamobile to avoid them. "Pathetic, absolutely pathetic," Jareth yawned, materializing again, "You're no match for me, Klubb."

Sam charged toward him, but found that the distance between them seemed to get longer and longer. "You're in my world now," Jareth told him, "And you're at the mercy of what I decide its physics should be."

"Yeah, well, you have no power over me," Sam stood upright, "Yeah, you heard me, you have no power over me!"

"Fool," Jareth chuckled, "Do you really think I'd let myself be defeated like that again? That doesn't work anymore. This, however, does."

The next thing Sam knew, he was being blown backwards to the floor. A large and heavy shield on the wall fell down toward him. Sam balled up, protecting himself as best he could, but surprisingly it didn't hit him. Rather, as he saw when he looked up, it was liquefying. Before he could move, however, it splashed on top of him and instantly hardened, leaving him pinned to the floor. "Comfy?" Jareth asked mockingly, "Well, enjoy it, because I've got a surprise for you."

In the distance Sam could here a heavy thumping sound getting oh so closer. He found out what it was when the wall of the hall abruptly broke open. Through the gap lumbered the Humongous. It slowly lurched toward him, and he had no way to get out of the path of its crushing legs. Nonetheless, he squirmed around, trying to somehow squeeze out from under the metal. "Yes, you can expend your strength like that for all you want," Jareth had to shout over the Humongous now, "The end draws near, Detective, and you're….what's that noise?"

Sam heard it too; it was a whirling of sorts, along with the cries of numerous voices. Jareth summoned an orb to his hand and glanced into it. "Oh no!" he shouted, "Not now!"

There was a fluttering at the window. T.R. Rooster crowed out a charge, and seconds later the rear wall collapsed—as it would if Snuffleupagus and Thog were pushing it in. Behind them came a mob of retreating goblins, Garthim, and the like, who, it turned out, were being attacked by no fewer than two dozen of the miniature helicopters Doc had created. "Ah, worked like a charm, huh Sprocket?" the inventor said to his dog on the front most one, "I knew this would get us through the labyrinth in good time. All right, bombs away!"

Sprocket barked out an OK, then pulled a lever than dropped a huge load of water balloons onto several goblins. The hall was now filled with Muppets and humans, who were thoroughly beating the enemy silly. One hapless goblin was being half-devoured by Cookie Monster, due to the large number of coconut macaroons that had been stuck all over him. Up in the gallery, Bitterman grabbed the intercom switch. "Come on you stupid things, you're hardened creatures of the night!" she roared at her defenders, "They're nothing! Strike back!"

Strike back the evil beings tried to do, but they were still heavily outmanned. Things weren't looking good for Sam either, though. The Humongous was right on top of him, and he was just about out of time…

"Gangway," Gonzo came running over with a high-explosive bomb. He planted it on top of Sam and ducked for cover. Sam didn't really want to be blown up yet again, but braced himself nonetheless as it blew the metal off him. He rolled to safety seconds before he would have been crushed.

"Detective Klubb, we could really use some help up here!" Kermit could be heard screeching. The sauna spray was almost to Piggy and himself again.

"Be there in a minute," Sam ran over to a large bow that a goblin had dropped. "What's that for?" Rizzo inquired as he casually strolled over to watch.

"For the two of you," Sam picked him and Gonzo up, put them onto the bow, aimed for the cab of the Saunamobile, pulled it back and fired. Gonzo rocketed across the hall like a missile and crashed into the cab, sending Krassman flying into the opposite door. Rizzo jumped up and shut off the engine just as the sauna was inches from Piggy's snout. "That was close," the rat mused.

"Too close," Gonzo clutched his head. He was still better off than Krassman, who was out cold. "Is there any Tylenol in here?"

Up on the hook, Kermit remained in shock. "Uh, it's over, we're safe now," Piggy told him when he failed to say anything immediately.

"For now," Kermit said slowly, "But I just know it's not over yet."

"Down on the ground, things certainly weren't over yet, for Jareth materialized in from of Sam again and slugged him. "It pains me to resort to fist fighting, Klubb, but now you've got me REALLY mad!" the Goblin King roared, magically picking the detective up and spinning him around in circles in the air, "So now you face a fate so ominous it…"

"Pie for Lord Jareth," Fozzie snuck up behind him and threw one in his face. As the spell over him broke, Sam crashed to the floor. He looked around and saw the Humongous headed for the rear wall. An idea formed on how to stop Jareth once and for all. He took off running toward the metallic giant, but stopped short just in front of it. As he'd hoped, Jareth materialized right in front of him. "I've got a special treat for…YAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGHHH!" too late Jareth realized he was right under the Humongous's foot. Sam turned away as the hard crunching sound echoed through the chamber.

"Ouch!" Gonzo grimaced from the cab, "He's going to feel that in the morning."

"I think he's feeling it right now," Rizzo commented. The Humongous continued lumbering out the back wall, where it toppled back into the labyrinth. Sam breathed in relief. "Well, at least that's over with," he said out loud.

"I-I-I-I don't think so," Fozzie stammered, pointing back at where Jareth had fallen. Much to Sam's amazement, the Goblin King was getting back up! Only now he was shaped like an accordion! "You're a Muppet too!" the detective gasped.

"Obviously, genius!" Jareth snorted. There was something very strange and familiar with his voice, "Skek-Na, the Crystal!"

"The Crystal? What's that got to do with anything?" Piggy snorted from the hook, able to hear the entire conversation.

"Everything," a horrified look was crossing Kermit's face, "Uh, Piggy, you're not going to like this, but I just realized something terrible. Remember how they didn't know how John Denver's plane went down the way it did?"

Piggy didn't answer, for her attention was distracted,as was everyone else's, by a large slab of the intact wall rising up to reveal the Dark Crystal behind it. Jareth raised his arms upward and said something in a strange language. Instantly red light blazed forth from the Crystal and engulfed him. Slowly he began to grow in size. But that wasn't the only changes happening; somehow he seemed to be losing his human characteristics. Dark hair was sprouting all over his face and hands, and he was growing claws and fangs—and indeed, from what could be seen, a second head entirely. Then without warning, large black leathery wings burst out of his back, tearing his clothes to shreds. He kept growing until he reached the height of the ceiling, then slowly turned around. Immediately Sam recognized the face before him, with its two heads, six eyes, sharp horns, and fiery breath. A loud gasp of terror escaped his lips. "So you do remember me, huh Sammy?" the creature before him said in a demonic voice, "Well I remember you too. We met the night I killed your family! And now I'm going to finish the job!"

"Well, that settles it," Boober groaned from Doc's chopper, which he and the other Fraggles had hitched a ride on, "We're all now officially doomed!"


	14. Chapter 14

The faces. Sam remembered them vividly from the night his family had died. Both of them were staring at him now with murderous intent. And he could see no way of stopping the creature.

Therefore, he did the only thing he could think of at the moment: he started running toward the door. "Going somewhere?" came the creature's cold voice. There was a loud flapping of wings behind him, and the next thing he knew, it had landed right in front of him, blocking the exit. A large hairy hand reached out and grabbed him. "First things first," it sniggered, tossing Sam like a rag doll into the wall. It then lurched toward the Saunamobile and yanked off the driver's side door. "YIIIIPE!" Gonzo and Rizzo shrieked simultaneously. "Uh, we're not buying any!" the whatever said nervously.

"Out!" the creature tossed him and Rizzo out the door. It then turned the key in the ignition and ripped off the front panel so it couldn't be turned back off. The sauna spray started inching back up toward Kermit and Piggy. "Well, here we go again!" the frog groaned.

"Any ideas?" Piggy was for once starting to look nervous herself.

"Just the last ditch pointless one: HEEEELLLLLLPPPP!" the two of them screamed for anyone who cared to hear.

"I think not!" the creature hissed toward the back of the room, where several people and Muppets had been trying to sneak before the Saunamobile. It raised its hand high, and instantly walls of flames rose up almost to the ceiling all over the room, leaving everyone trapped in the corners. "Oh this is terrific!" Bob griped, shielding several Muppets from the flames.

"Anyone bring marshmallows?" Cookie Monster was somewhat less phased by this disturbing development.

Up in the gallery, everyone was rather surprised at what Jareth had become. "Did he tell you this?" one of the Skeksis asked Bitterman.

"No," the magnate said, but she wasn't upset, "But no matter. I love men—or things—with absolute power like this. I'll just have to make sure he can control his transformations in bed."

"Good luck," Miss Finch sighed, "My third husband turned out to be a were-parrot. I tried to live with it, but it was just too much having to move out every month at the full moon while he went on a rampage and tore up everything in sight."

Down below, Sam was getting a full feeling of a rampage himself. The creature was zapping him with painful red bolts of electricity from its fingers. He wretched in pain and agony. "Having fun?" the creature mocked him, "At least I get to see you suffer! It was too easy watching the rest of your family die immediately! But now I'm going to make it long and slow for you, Sammy!"

He picked him up again and flew up to the roof, then dropped him down to the floor. Sam shuddered from the impact. He needed a weapon quickly.

"Here," from behind the flames, Fozzie tossed a large rubber kickball at him. Sam stared at it in wonder. What the heck?" he shrugged and reared his arm back…

Only to get another severe blast of magic electricity from the creature. "You'll never harm me, Klubb!" it gloated, "It's all over now!"

Ignoring the severe pain as much as he could, Sam glanced to his right. He noticed the rear valve to the Saunamobile's main tank stuck out like a sore thumb. With his remaining strength, he tossed the kickball at it. It hit the valve straight on and unleashed a torrent of sauna toward the creature…

…Which jumped out of it's way unharmed. "Nice try, but I didn't come here to swim!" it laughed, pelting the detective with more electricity. Groaning, Sam noticed the spray of sauna was burning a hole through the wall. Behind it were tanks and tanks of barrels labeled SAUNA: BE VERY, VERY CAREFUL WITH.

"That's it!" the exclamation escaped his lips. He grasped out for the kickball, seized a hold of it, and tossed it at the creature's left head. Once again it hit dead on, and the creature stumbled backwards, the bolts of electricity blowing a large hole in the floor. "That was un-WHOA!" it exclaimed in shock as it stepped backwards into the hole. As it fell, another blast of electricity shot from its fingers and blew open the tanks behind the wall, dumping a wall of sauna into the hole after it. "NNNOOOOOOOO!" came the scream from under the blackish liquid.

Up on the hook, the remaining sauna spraying was close to Piggy and Kermit again. "Goodbye Kermie, my one true love!" the pig cried melodramatically, "We go together, as we were meant to be, as…!"

Just as the spray was about to touch them, it abruptly trickled off to nothing. "Oh it's terrible!" Piggy kept shrieking even though the danger was over, "Death is worse than I imagined! It feels like…!"

"Uh, Piggy, we're going to live," Kermit gestured with his flipper toward the now silent sauna cannon. "Oh. I knew that," Piggy said stoically.

A loud shriek from the hole caught their attention. Because of the shape of the floor, all of the sauna was now draining into the hole on top of the creature. Shaking himself off, Sam rushed over to the edge and looked down. The sauna had now destroyed its left head, and the right one was back down to two eyes. Its remaining face was filled with abject terror as it was being destroyed by its own concoction. "I'M MELTING!" it cried out, scratching at the sides in a frantic attempt to escape, "MELTING! MELTING! IT SHOULDN'T END LIKE THIS!"

"I think it only fair," Gordon had managed to inch through the wall of flames, which were now dying down, and was standing on the other side of the pit "As I tell my students every day, he who hurts others serves only to hurt himself."

The creature slowly sank down into the huge puddle of sauna building up underneath it. Its wings hit the liquid and crumpled up. Nonetheless, although its doom was sealed, it still kept scratching and clawing away until it disappeared into a huge burst of steam and its screams abruptly stopped. Sam breathed a large sigh of relief. His family had been avenged.

"Uh, Detective Klubb, we could still use your help here!" came a shout from Kermit. The Saunamobile was still lurching toward him and Piggy up on the hook. Thinking quickly, Sam picked up the kickball and kicked it as hard as he could toward the controls up near the gallery. Once again his aim was true, and the ball hit the Up button. Instantly Kermit and Piggy were jerked upwards as the Saunamobile rammed its way through the wall. Inside the cab, Krassman groaned as he came to. "Stupid whatevers," he groaned to himself, "Think they can go flying wherever they—YAAACCCCCCCKKKKKK!"

The Saunamobile had come out at Frogtown Hollow on the other side of the wall and was now tumbling into the river. Krassman leaped to safety just in time. Immediately Fozzie was on him with a pickle. "Move and I shoot," the bear said in his best John Wayne voice.

"Drat those loaded pickles!" Krassman grumbled. He and Fozzie watched as the Saunamobile dipped underneath the water. The wail of sirens now filled the air. "Figures," Gonzo grumbled from over by the wall, "The cops always manage to show up after everything's over and done with."

No fewer than a dozen cop cars were now streaming into the castle. Up in the gallery, Bitterman leaped to her feet. "Time to beat a path out of here," she declared, rushing for the door.

A large fish flew through the door and whacked her in the face. "Everyone hold it," came the voice of Lew Zealand, who charged in brandishing more fish. Meanwhile, another uniformed figure jumped on top of the Skeksis and pinned down their heads with a large board. "Get this off!" yelled one of them.

"Suspect pacifying in progress!" yelled Marvin Suggs, hefting a mallet, "Tuning up!"

He whammed each Skeksis in the head one at a time, prodding a loud "OW!" from each of them. A large heavyset human figure entered the gallery. "OK, this one's real, Bitterman," he said, hefting a genuine gun, "You're under arrest for false death."

"That's not a charge!" she protested.

"It is now," the cop said, "You, Doug McKenzie," he gestured at Sam Sleaze, "Lower the frog and pig down."

"Not you again!" Sid recognized him.

"No, it's Dr. Tongue; of course it's me," the cop said, "And you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit frogslaughter and pignapping."

Sid burst into tears again at the thought of going to jail yet again. His brother rolled his eyes and obeyed the cop's order. Slowly Kermit and Piggy dropped to the floor and safety. Rizzo picked the locks holding them. "You two OK?" he asked them.

"I've felt better," Kermit admitted.

"Oh Kermit, my love, my hero, you were a pillar of strength!" Piggy threw herself all over the frog and tried to kiss him, "Hold me now! Unleash that passion you've kept so long for…"

"Piggy, will you stop!" Kermit tore himself free and ran toward Sam. "Protect me, please!" he begged the detective.

There was a mild clamor in the air. Muppets of all shapes and sizes were pouring through the gap in the wall from Frogtown Hollow. Combined with those that had already entered the castle, there were well over four hundred of them. They approached the pit and looked down at Jareth's remains, which by now were little more than lots of black hair, wire frames, and red ping-pong balls. "I've heard of being beside yourself, but this is ridiculous," Statler, the first one to the edge, commented.

"The big question is, could all the king's horses and all the king's men put him back together again?" Waldorf added.

"How should I know, I never met anyone connected with the king," Statler shrugged.

"Boy, I wonder who he really was deep down?" Emmet Otter was right behind them.

"I'll tell you one thing, Emmet, he sure wasn't a beaver," Harvey told him.

"Or a cow," added Gladys.

"Or a toy tiger," chimed in Rugby.

"Or a monster," claimed Herry.

"Or a Fraggle," guessed Wembley.

"Or a magician," said the Amazing Mumford, waving his wand around.

"He was my precious!" a sorrowful Bitterman ran toward the hole and sobbed at the Goblin King's fate, "You!" she snarled at Sam, having to be restrained by the big cop from attacking the detective, "You killed him!"

"Hey, nothing I wouldn't do in self-defense," the big cop told her, "Let's go, Bitterman, you're going down for this one."

He and several other cops dragged her and the surviving suspects off ("Unhand me sir!" Pa Gorg was ordering Nigel, who was escorting him off in handcuffs, "I'm the king of the universe! I have diplomatic immunity!"). One final police car pulled in through the hole in the wall. "Uncle Kermit, you're all right!" Robin bounded out of the back seat.

"Of course I'm all right, Robin," Kermit hugged him. Scooter and Connie followed the little frog. "Boy, you look like you've been through a war, Sam," the latter greeted the detective.

"More or less," Sam clutched a painful spot in his chest, "How'd you get here?"

"Earl called the police when you didn't come back after an hour," Scooter explained, "We've been searching high and low all night, haven't we, Mr. O'Shaughnessy?"

"Exactly, kid," O'Shaughnessy climbed out of the driver's seat, "What exactly happened here, Klubb?"

"Lord Jareth," Sam gestured at the pit, "And Bitterman conspired to commit Muppetcide. I have it all on tape."

He pulled a tape recorder from his pocket and handed it to O'Shaughnessy. "Clever, clever," Scooter commented.

"Yeah, almost too clever," Gonzo walked over, "Why is it they always have things on tape at the right time?"

"Speaking of which," Piggy thrust a watch in the whatever's face, "It's just about midnight. And without Henson's will, we all lose Muppetville permanently. It's only slightly better than being saunaed."

A heavy silence fell among all the Muppets. Everyone turned toward Kermit. "What?" the frog asked, "I don't have it. If I knew where it was, I'd give it up right away, but…"

"Kermit, remember that contract you drew up for everyone?" something had clicked in Sam's mind.

"Yes, and?"

"Hold it," Sam handed it to him, then struck a match and held it to the paper, "And read it now."

"Hmm, I, James Maury Henson, of sound mind and body, decree that…WE FOUND IT!" Kermit exclaimed excitedly, "Decree that from this day forward, as long as this paper is not recovered and read by midnight fifteen years after I go, the property known as Muppetville shall be forever be in possession of my friends the Muppets! We got it!"

Loud cheers broke out through the crowds of Muppets. "Hold it, hold it, hold it!" Bert shouted over the cries, "How do we know for sure it's the real thing? For all we know, Jim could have written something else entirely."

Silence fell again. "That's a good point," Gobo remarked, "We'll need to get an expert to analyze it before midnight."

"Here comes the Honor Elder of Muppetville; he can tell if it's real," cried out an unspecified Muppet somewhere in the back of the crowd. The Muppets abruptly parted like the Red Sea to make room for a small greenish figure walking with a cane that slowly made its way forward. "The will to me give," it told Sam.

"All yours, Yoda," Sam handed it to him. The Jedi Master took it and carefully analyzed it. "Thirty seconds to midnight," Rizzo told him nervously.

Yoda held up his hand to silence the rat. Everyone held their breath. Finally, just ten seconds before midnight, Yoda said softy, "Authentic, this will is."

This time the cheers threatened to bring down the rafters. Even Sam himself couldn't stop from joining in. He seized Connie around the chest and swung her around in delight. "Aw, why keep it suppressed anymore?" Thog leaned down, "Why not just kiss and make it official?"

"I might just when we're alone," Sam pushed the big blue creature back softly, but he was smiling.

"So, I guess you'll be back to normal now again, Detective Klubb?" Kermit walked up to him, "That was amazing what you did with the Riverbottom Gang. I guess you can laugh again now that you've gotten peace."

"I guess so too," Sam nodded, patting Kermit on the head, "And to be honest, Kermit, I'm glad to have done it with you."

Kermit grinned. "Hey, this calls for a celebration," Fozzie called out over the crowd once everything had calmed down.

"I know," Emmet piped up, "We can all go to the Riverside Rest and have a victory dinner there."

"Sounds good, that does," Yoda climbed up onto Sweetums's shoulders, "To the Riverside Rest let's go; time to boogie down, it is!"

The Jedi master made several uncharacteristic "hip" moves. "Ready Rowlf?" Dr. Teeth called over to the dog on the opposite side of a large moveable platform on which they and the rest of the Electric Mayhem were now standing.

"Ready Teeth," Rowlf poised himself over a brand new piano, "And a one and a two and a three, hit it."

They broke into a familiar tune. With one arm around Kermit (who glanced around to make sure Piggy wasn't going to ambush him with love) and another around Connie, a much happier than ever Sam followed the crowds of Muppets through the wall into Frogtown Hollow, singing loudly with them, "Life's like a movie, write your own ending, keep believing, keep pretending, we've survived the worst and we're starting anew, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you."

"Not to mention us," commented George from the back of the crowd, where he and Beauregard were sweeping up after everyone, "After all, we get to clean this whole mess up."

"Yeah," Beauregard added, "Lucky us."

THE END


End file.
